


Only Jon

by Stargareed (orphan_account)



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rhaegar Won, BAMF Daenerys Targaryen, BAMF Jon Snow, Bondage, Dad!jon, Dark Daenerys Targaryen, Dark Jon Snow, Discipline, Dom!Jon, Dom/sub, Dragon Riders, Dragonlord Jon Snow, F/M, Femdom, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Crack, House Targaryen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Incest, Jon Snow Knows Something, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, Jon and Dany have a Safe Word, King Jon Snow, Maledom, Period-Typical Underage, Politics, Porn With Plot, Possessive Behavior, Queen Daenerys Targaryen, R Plus L Equals J, Rhaella Targaryen Lives, Rhaella Targaryen is thirsty, Sub!Dany, Targlings (ASoIaF), Targlings are targin' on each other, Violence, War, Wargs, dom!Dany, mom!Dany, sub!Jon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:55:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 58,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27657157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Stargareed
Summary: Reflection, reunion, and restoration occur in the wake of Jon’s death, culminating in Dany and Jon fighting together to both defeat the Others and free the slaves of Essos.***REPOSTED with edits***
Relationships: Alys Karstark/Robb Stark, Davos Seaworth/Rhaella Targaryen, Grey Worm/Missandei, Harrold Hardyng/Sansa Stark, Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen, Meera Reed/Bran Stark
Comments: 8
Kudos: 64





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: There are some unpleasant events that occur throughout the story, including the rape of a main character off page. Please proceed with caution. Thank you.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the eve of her second marriage, Daenerys Targaryen reflects on her past life with her first husband, King Jaehaerys "Jon" Targaryen.

_Only Jon_.

“I said what are you thinking about, my love?”

Dany silently cringed, “Nothing.”

Dany reluctantly looked at her betrothed, Quentyn Martell. _He was plain, nice enough, though somewhat overbearing_. They were betrothed two years ago, and Dany had done her best to delay the inevitable. But on the morrow she would be married again, her sacrifice to maintain the fragile peace after Tywin’s rebellion.

The awkward tension was mercifully broken by the voice of her eldest. “Mother, there are still a few things we need to discuss about the feast.”

An unbidden smile came to Dany’s face. Despite inheriting her mother’s coloring, 17-year-old Alys was always shadowed by her direwolf, and today was no exception. Ghost and Nymeria had a litter of pups nine years ago—two males and two females to match Dany’s children. Arya was more than happy to part with the pups as she did not want children of her own. _After all, that would typically require marriage_. 

The fact that her children had direwolves was something Dany had never quite gotten used to. But the far North was a mysterious and magical place, at least according to her brother, who had pursued Lyanna over a prophecy involving the Others. _And apparently, he wasn’t the only one who thought so_. It was rumored that a red priestess from Asshai had been living near the Wall for years, waiting for some promised hero to emerge. Dany shook her head. _Rhaegar had been wrong. Both he and Lyanna had died young, as had the fruit of their union. None of them ever got the chance to see the Others, if the Others even existed to begin with_. Dany smiled sadly. She had a feeling the red priestess would be waiting for a very long time.

Normally Ghost was by Dany’s side, her own aging shadow. But today was a day she had to share with Quentyn, who was weary of Ghost. And as amusing as Quentyn’s discomfort was at Ghost’s overprotectiveness, she thought it best to leave him in her room. _Though he’ll have to get used to Ghost if we are to be married. Or better yet, maybe not, and I could keep Ghost by my side. He is getting older after all and needs my care now more than ever_ , Dany smirked.

“There’s one of the bards. I’ll be right back, mother,” Alys ran off.

Quentyn cleared his throat and Dany turned to look at him. “Sometime today, could we go someplace where we could speak privately? Where we could be alone, just the two of us? After all, we are to be wed tomorrow, so surely I am not being too forward?” Quentyn smiled.

**27 years ago**

“No one will look for us here. It can just be the two of us for a while,” Jon smiled. She had grown up on Dragonstone and could tell Jon was proud to show her all the Red Keep’s hidden places. “And I like it, it’s peaceful. My mother’s family worshipped the old gods, so it feels like home in a way.”

“Do you ever think about your mother?” Dany asked. “My mother says Rhaegar loved her more than anything.” Jon was laying his head on Dany's lap while she ran her fingers through his hair. “I know that Elia isn’t your mother. And she’s not mean to you, but she doesn’t treat you like my mother treats me.” Dany didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but she was genuinely curious.

Jon let out a deep breath. “Yes, I wonder what it’d be like to have a mother. I’ve seen the way Elia hugs Egg, and kisses Rhae. She’s always smiling at them. If my mother was alive, I sometimes wonder if she’d do that to me.” Jon’s eyes were filled with longing.

“Of course! How could she not?!” Dany’s emphatic response broke Jon’s trance. “If I were your mother, I’d give you hugs and kisses all the time.”

Jon’s eyes grew big and he looked away. Dany didn’t say any more. This moment was perfect, and she didn’t want to scare him away. After a while, Jon broke the silence. “It’d feel good I bet, if my mother was with me. It’d probably feel like being home all the time, no matter where you were.”

“Jon,” Dany whispered as Jon looked at her. “I can be your home.”

**Present**

“Maybe the Godswood?” Quentyn suggested.

“What?” Dany asked, momentarily confused.

“Maybe we can talk privately in the Godswood. I heard no one ever goes there.”

“No,” Dany stated emphatically.

“Why?”

Dany’s nostrils flared and she tried to quell her temper. “It’s a sacred place for me and my children.”

“But you don’t follow the old gods,” Quentyn argued. _How dare he_.

“My _children_ do. And I said no. In fact, I don’t want you to _ever_ go there. Even without me. Do you understand?” Dany’s eyes burned with fury.

Quentyn looked hurt, “That’s fine. But can we still have our private meeting?”

Dany sighed, “We can talk this evening in the garden of the Red Keep. We will have sufficient privacy,” she stated matter-of-factly, her mask firmly back on.

Quentyn, paying more attention to her words than her tone, gave a satisfied smile. He took her hand and kissed it gently.

**22 Years Ago**

“Do you ever touch yourself? You know, down there?” Jon’s curiosity had finally won out over his embarrassment, but he still couldn’t look her in the eye.

Dany’s eyes grew big, “I don’t see how that is any of your business!” Her cheeks flushed as she looked away. She had never talked about this with anyone, not even her mother, to whom she told almost everything.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. I was just curious. I don’t think it’s wrong, regardless of what the septas say . . . I mean, I’ve touched myself before.” The stick at Dany’s feet was apparently the most interesting stick that ever existed because Jon’s eyes had yet to leave it.

“You have? How may times?” Dany inquired. Jon did not answer. “Do you think about anything while you’re doing it?” Dany unconsciously leaned closer, desperate for an answer.

“Sometimes. Usually. I mean, it’d be strange to not think about _anything_.” The wheels were turning in Jon’s head. Dany decided not to pester him, but to let the awkward silence do her dirty work. After what felt like an eternity, Jon finally responded. “I mean, I sometimes will think about the things that _we’ve_ done,” Jon grimaced. Dany smiled, but then quickly turned away from him when he finally found the courage to look at her. “I’m sorry if that’s gross.”

“No, it’s not. I think it’s something that people do, but just don’t talk about. I won’t tell anyone if that is what you’re worried about,” Dany reassured. Jon smiled sadly. _He deserved more than that_.

“I’ve done it, too. Like once or twice, just to see. To make sure everything was . . . healthy,” Dany breathed deeply. “And I also thought about . . . us.”

Jon lost his battle to keep from smiling and suffered an even worse defeat trying to keep his voice under control. “So, you think about me, us, when you . . .?” Jon’s brow furrowed, “Could you tell me when you do it? Like, not every time, but just when you think about me when you do it?”

 _So, basically every time_. “I would feel strange doing that,” Dany admitted. “I mean, I like when we share our secrets, but that might make me too uncomfortable.”

“Of course, I shouldn’t have asked.” Jon looked defeated, but then he got an idea. “What if you don’t say anything, but you just extend your hand for me to kiss. No one would think anything of it, it would just look like we were being formal. But I might be able to . . . tell that you’ve done it.”

And so for the next few weeks before he left to go North, she would greet him almost every morning with an extended hand. True, she was loyal to Jon, to a fault. But the main reason for her consistency was more pragmatic: she could only finish quickly if she thought about him, and princesses had things to do.

**Present**

Quentyn had mercifully left her when she started talking to Alys about the various courses for the feast. Her second oldest, Aemon, sauntered up to them. It didn’t take Alys long before she started talking about the details of _her own_ future wedding. Unlike Quentyn, Aemon seemed to hang on every word, his violet eyes lighting up when she mentioned winter roses in honor of their grandmother. _This must be how mother felt around Jon and I_.

As much as Dany enjoyed listening to her two oldest, she had other concerns. “How is Daeron? He still refuses to talk to me.”

Aemon brushed a strand of brown hair from his face and sighed. “I spoke with him a while this morning and he is still upset. It’s hard for him to understand everything that is going on. He sees Quentyn as trying to take father’s place, and thinks that once you’re married again, you’ll forget all about father, and even about us.”

Dany closed her eyes. It broke her heart that Daeron was having these feelings. But she could never forget about her children. Or Jon. Even her pregnancy with Daeron was still vivid in her mind.

**9 Years Ago**

“What are you doing, Dany?” Jon feigned confusion as he ran his fingertips along the back of her thighs, stopping just before he reached her cheeks. Jon had gently tugged her hair that morning, his sign that he wanted to be in control that night, that it was _his_ night. Dany had looked forward to this moment all day, the small touches Jon gave her throughout the day heightening her anticipation. Now she was naked on all fours, while he remained clothed.

“I’m waiting for my king to take me,” she played along.

“Why would I do that? Isn’t the purpose of coupling to produce a child? And you’re already with child.” They had only recently found out the good news.

“That’s not the _only_ purpose, my King,” Dany stated demurely. She felt that familiar heat on her cheeks, and her heart begin to race.

“Oh. What other purpose is there?” Jon continued his act, all the more impressive considering how insatiable he became during her pregnancies.

“Because it feels good,” she turned her head to face Jon, biting her lip and trying her best to look ashamed.

“I see,” Jon sighed, as if learning the extent of her affliction for the first time. “But I’m your nephew.” _Gods_. “And surely it’s not worth _debasing_ yourself in such a way?” He leaned closer, and whispered in her ear: “Particularly, for a queen.” Jon’s breath and the implications of his words caused tingles to shoot down her body. “So . . . why?”

Dany hesitated for a few seconds. Then she mumbled, “Because I’m a whore for my nephew’s cock.”

“What was that, _Your Grace_?” Jon asked.

Dany steeled herself. “Because I am a whore for my nephew’s cock,” she stated louder, beginning to get riled up.

She waited patiently for Jon to break the silence. “Then you shall have it,” Jon leaned in, his lips brushing her ear. “When I’m ready for you to have it.”

Normally on Jon’s nights, she would have to ask before he entered her. It usually didn’t take long for her request to come. But that night, he made her beg for what seemed like hours while he methodically pushed her farther and farther, never allowing her a release. It started with her laying across his lap, her arousal apparent, causing her cheeks to flush red. Jon’s hand soon caused her other cheeks to match. His fingertips danced against her womanhood and grazed her rosebud, causing her to squirm and hum. But to her frustration, Jon would stop when she got close. Jon saw how impatient she was becoming, so he made sure to tie her up tighter than normal so she had no chance of breaking free. Jon used his breath, hair, fingers, and tongue to torture her. When he finally allowed for it, she peaked harder than she ever had.

When he eventually entered her, it felt amazing. But he did not move. “Jon, please.” Dany mewled.

“No.”

Dany cupped her breasts. “Please. I need it. Fuck me hard.”

Jon slapped her face lightly. It didn’t really hurt, it just shocked her. “You never tell me what to do, do you understand?”

She nodded and whimpered. A wolfish grin appeared on Jon’s face. “But I think I might take you up on your offer.” He bent her legs back to her shoulders and fucked her with abandon. She didn’t recognize the noises she made as she clawed Jon’s back until he bled and bit into his shoulder.

**Present**

At dinner, Dany sat with the Martells. While Doran was too ill to attend, Oberyn was regaling the table with his stories of Essos. Though they were interesting, Dany found herself distracted. Arianne sensed this and sought to include her in the conversation.

“Your Grace, I must say you look splendid. And you have no doubt caught my brother’s eye. In fact, I don’t think his eyes have left you all evening.” Her comment was met with polite chuckles around the table, though Quentyn looked slightly embarrassed.

“That is very kind of you, Princess.” Dany’s mask was on, but her guard was up as well.

“And of course, while we celebrate the union of our houses, we should never forget about the sacrifices made by others in defense of the realm. The late King Jaehaerys was a brave and honorable man.” Arianne studied Dany’s reaction at the mention of Jon’s name, _no doubt probing my feelings for Quentyn’s sake_. Dany felt anger rising within her at Arianne’s little game. Arianne continued, “And not only was he brave and honorable, he was _powerful_.” Arianne began to lightly brush her neck and chest with her fingertips, drawing even more attention to her ample cleavage, while a smirk played across her face.

Dany sneered instinctively and felt Alys squeeze her hand. “Thank you, Princess Arianne. My father was indeed brave and honorable, as were many who have sacrificed their lives for the realm,” Alys suggested, attempting to avoid any conflict the evening before the wedding.

“Of course, Princess,” Arianne’s condescension was subtle, but there. “But not everyone who sacrificed was a king with a dragon and direwolf. Was there ever anyone as powerful? Had it not been for rebel treachery, I don’t think anyone could’ve made him _submit_.”

**13 Years Ago**

She commanded him to take his clothes off and lay on his back, his hard cock pulsating under her inspection. Dany ran her fingers up and down his body, silently approving of his martial training. The power she had to make him crazy with lust was intoxicating. She had an effect on other men, but with Jon she had _complete_ control. She never failed to notice how he’d shift in his seat whenever their arms touched, or how the rhythm of his breathing would change when she brushed her fingers against his thigh under the table. _Even after all these years_.

It had been like this ever since she was 14 and had gone to Rhaenys for advice. Jon would be going North, and she needed to give him something to remember her by. Jon responded quite eagerly, and though he was green, he learned quickly. Very quickly. _Soon it became apparent that I had created a monster_.

But tonight was _her_ night. She had tugged his hair the moment he returned to King’s Landing, and she would be in absolute control. “Did you touch yourself while you were in Dorne, or have anyone else touch you?” She squeezed his cock tightly to emphasize the last question, causing him to gasp. “You know I’ll be able to tell, so you better not lie to me,” she threatened.

“No.”

“But you were gone for weeks. Surely you came a few times? After all, I know what a naughty little nephew I have,” her lips pursed with judgment.

“I obeyed you, my Queen. I did not come, not even once,” Jon professed adamantly.

Dany could feel the dragon inside her begin to wake, a sinister smile forming on her face. _I have completely ruined him for other women_. Dany licked the length of his cock, taking the tip in her mouth and ever so slightly using her teeth to let him know what was in store for him. She coated him with her spit and began to move her hand up and down. It only took a few strokes for his cum to shoot out like a geyser, forcing Dany to abruptly turn her head.

“Jon, what the hell? You almost blinded me!” Dany exclaimed, turning away from him to check her vision.

“What? You said not to come. What did you think would happen? It has been weeks!”

“How about a warning first? Gods,” Dany complained petulantly, secretly pleased with his obedience.

Jon smiled, “You don’t need both eyes anyways. You could be my pirate queen.”

Dany scowled at him. This was getting out of hand, and she needed to reestablish control quickly. Without warning, she grabbed his balls, causing him to tense.

“Did I say you could make jokes, little King?”

“No, my Queen.”

“Open your mouth . . . good boy.” Dany spit directly onto his tongue, which Jon immediately swallowed. “Did I say you could swallow? You swallow when I say so, you come when I say so, do you understand?”

“Yes, my Queen.”

Dany waited a few seconds, her face softening. “However, I am pleased that you were a good little king who managed to go a few weeks without fondling himself. I suppose you deserve something for your efforts.” Dany hiked up her skirt and straddled him, her nether lips warming his cock, causing him to grow once more. “Do you want to be inside me, little nephew?

“Yes, aunt. Please.”

She put the tip in, as a look of contentment spread across Jon’s face. She squeezed her muscles, causing his eyes to roll back. _This is too easy_. She’d prefer he put up more of a fight. Then she had an idea.

She moved off of him completely, as he huffed in annoyance. “My Stark King thinks he is worthy to fuck a Dragon Queen? How could a descendant of Torrhen Stark be worthy to even look upon a Targaryen, except from on his knees?” Dany gave a wicked grin.

By Jon’s reaction, she knew that she had hit a nerve. But she wanted him to push back. She wanted the thrill of the chase before she devoured him. She would never dream of saying something like this when they were young, when Jon was so self-conscious about his Stark looks. But after spending time in Winterfell, and getting Ghost, Jon was unabashedly proud of his Stark blood. In fact, he knew that his combination of Targaryen and Stark blood was probably even more potent than pure Targaryen blood. And he was likely right, though she’d never admit that to his face.

“It’s in your blood to bend the knee to _pure_ Targaryens, is it not?” She gripped his balls and cock with her hands. He hesitated, sneering. She squeezed, “I said, is it not, my little Stark King?”

Jon gave in, “It is.”

“So this is what you’re going to do tomorrow, my little King. We’re going to reenact Torrhen Stark’s surrender to Aegon in the throne room. Would you like that? You’re going to bend the knee to me, and kiss my feet. My pure, Targaryen feet. Are you going to do that?” Jon whimpered. “Well, it’s not like you have any choice in the matter. But don’t worry, I’ll still let you be my little Stark consort. You’re pretty to look at, after all,” she mounted him. “But you won’t be allowed to touch yourself any more without my explicit permission. Do you understand? I get to decide when you come. And don’t think it’ll be from me, at least on a regular basis. You see, I’m going to embrace my conqueror’s blood and start taking lovers.” Jon’s eyes grew wide, his mixed emotions were palpable. “But don’t worry, I’ll let you watch me conquer them. Or will they conquer me? Maybe a little bit of both. And while you won’t be able to touch yourself while you watch your queen get ravished, I will let you clean up their mess when they’re done fucking me like a whore. Would you like that, my little Stark King?” Dany was now riding Jon fast, grinding into him. “Will you bend the knee tomorrow, like a good little consort? In front of everyone?”

“Yes,” Jon gasped. They both finished at the same time. As Dany held him in her arms, he smiled back. “You’ve quite the imagination,” Jon raised his brow. “I’m impressed.”

“I don’t think I’m that imaginative, but I have been told I’m prophetic,” she winked. Jon laughed, tickling and wrestling with her until they eventually both fell into a sweet sleep.

**Present**

“Only Jon?” Quentyn asked, surprised. “I mean, a woman as beautiful as you . . . I’m surprised you haven’t had multiple suitors.” They were sitting in a small garden of the Red Keep. Her mother and oldest children offered to tie up the ceremonial loose ends so she could spend some time with her future husband. _How . . . generous of them_.

“I have. They just never succeeded,” Dany answered, coldly.

“Don’t worry. Though I’ve been with several women, I know how to be _gentle_.”

**14 Years Ago**

Jon bit down on the nape of her neck and then pulled her hair to expose even more of her skin before sinking his teeth in again. She knew the second Harrold Hardyng smiled at her and made her laugh that she’d end the night this way: completely powerless while Jon claimed her. In fact, it was supposed to be _her_ night. She had tugged Jon’s hair rather sharply after the small council meeting. But Harry’s mild flirting changed everything. And she didn’t mind. She enjoyed being dominated more than she enjoyed dominating. In fact, she’d be lying if she said she didn’t sometimes instigate a little flirting because she knew it drove Jon mad with possessive lust and brought out his wolf side. Plus, the next night she would get her revenge and punish Jon twice as hard for breaking their rules. She enjoyed that quite a bit. But the part she really enjoyed was her nephew’s filthy mouth.

“Take off your small clothes, leave your dress on,” Jon commanded. Dany did as she was told as Jon’s rock-hard cock sprung out of his pants. He picked her up and she sunk down easily onto him. Her dress covered their connection. “Let me show you what happens to naughty little dragons who flirt with lesser men.”

“I didn’t flirt,” Dany argued.

“No,” Jon countered, “but you endured his flirting without feeding him to your dragon. So now he thinks you approve of his flirting, so he’ll continue his flirting. The only way to stop it is to make it clear that he will not be successful in his endeavor. How will we do that, little aunt? The only solution that comes to mind is to show the world who you belong to.”

Jon took her to the balcony. Her heart started beating a hole in her chest. “Jon . . . what are you?” Dany protested weakly. She was still covered, but she felt a thrill regardless. 

Jon whispered in her ear, “I could take you hard right here, and make you scream, and there isn’t a damn thing you could do about it. What could you do about it, Dany? How could you stop me?”

“I couldn’t,” she admitted.

“And then everyone would know who you belong to. Would you like that? Would you like the small folk to know you’re my whore?” Jon pinched her nipple when she didn’t answer right away. She gasped, and he used the opportunity to put his thumb in her mouth. She instinctively started sucking. “Good girl.” He then kissed her powerfully while lightly wrapping his long fingers around her throat. He caught Dany's bottom lip in his teeth as they finally separated, breathless. “It’s time to remind you who you belong to, little aunt.”

He laid her down on the bed, immediately turning her over on her stomach and lifting her dress. He paused for a moment. “Gods,” he whispered under his breath. He entered her slowly, gradually building his pace as her moans became louder. “Do you like that, little whore?”

“Yes.”

Jon grabbed a fistful of her hair, “Who owns you?”

“You do.”

“Who owns your cunt?”

“You.”

“Your breasts?”

“You.”

“What if I took you into the throne room tomorrow and fucked you in front of all the lords and ladies? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Jon palmed her breast with his other hand. “The lords and lordlings would get hard at the sight of you. They’d have no control over their own bodies. And the ladies would get wet. Have you ever seen them staring at me while I’m on the throne? While Ghost is beside me? Or while I’m riding Lyannaxes? Have you noticed that whenever Lyannaxes roars, their cheeks get flushed, their breathing quickens, and they bite their lips. From the maids to the widows, it doesn’t matter the age. Why do you think that is? You know they think about me when they’re touching themselves, right? Even when their husbands are inside them, they fantasize about me. I could have any woman in this kingdom. They’d kill for my dragonseed.”

The thought made her angry and aroused at the same time. “But you know what, little aunt? I . . . only . . . want . . . you.” Dany clenched hard around his cock, and then continued with small flutters as she fell completely prone on the bed in surrender. It was only then that she noticed how sweaty they both were.

“Dany, look at me," Jon cupped her cheek with his hand and grinned. "If you ever see a woman leering at me, you better teach her a lesson.” She smiled. “I’m serious, Dany. You never, ever put up with that. You’re a dragon, and dragons do not share. Do you understand?” She nodded, assured. “And if I ever see another man flirting with you, I’ll have him gelded and burned. Would you like that? To entice a man to his death, my little siren?”

Dany pretended to seriously consider it, “It depends how badly he flirted, I guess.” She smiled as Jon held her.

“Thank you, Dany. You could have any man in the world, and you chose me,” Jon continued. Dany closed her eyes and hummed in contentment as she knew the same was true for him. She basked in his comfort. They always did this afterwards. It was the best part, even better than Jon’s filthy mouth. There was foreplay to sex, but the sex itself was foreplay to this.

She looked up to Jon, “You feel like home.”

Jon’s eyes grew misty, “Aye, as do you. You told the truth all those years ago in the Godswood.”

“Aye, I did, didn’t I?” Dany giggled.

“Do you have any idea how good you make me feel?” Jon asked. “How I want only you?”

“You do?” Dany grinned mischievously.

“Dany, I’ve told you that a thousand times.” He brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I know, but tell me again.”

**Present**

Dany was able to escape from Quentyn after 20 minutes, much to Quentyn’s chagrin. He asked for a kiss, so she gave him a chaste peck on the cheek. He looked disappointed, but she excused herself before he could protest further.

Her emotions were starting to overwhelm her. There was only one place she could go, so she knocked on her mother’s door. When it opened, she didn’t say anything, just started crying.

“I know sweetling, come here,” her mother offered sympathetically.

Dany poured herself out to her mother, sharing all her guilt over Jon’s death. She had insisted that her and Jon marry. In so doing, they had broken Rhaegar’s betrothals and blatantly spurned the Lannisters and Tyrells, an offense that ultimately led to Jon’s death.

“If Jon had married Myrcella like Rhaegar wanted, and I had married Willas, Jon would still be alive.” The thought had haunted Dany for the past five years.

“Dany, look at me. There is no way you could’ve known what was going to happen. But I do know my grandson. And I know that he would _never_ have traded your 13 years together, and four amazing children, for even a thousand years. You know that.” Dany shook her head, tears rolling freely. Rhaella continued, “Sweetling, do you remember that conch shell that Jon found for you when you were little?”

Dany smiled, “Of course, I still have it. I had read that Blackwater Bay used to have them in abundance, but that they were rare now. But the pictures in the book made them look so beautiful, and I had told Jon that I really wanted one. It was pretty fortunate that he happened to stumble across one soon afterwards.” She paused, her adult mind realizing what her child mind did not.

“Sweetling, he didn’t just stumble across it. He looked for hours every day for a week straight. He combed every inch of Blackwater Bay for miles until he finally found one.”

“But why?”

“He loved you,” her mother responded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“But why wouldn’t he tell me? You’d think he’d want me to know,” Dany puzzled.

Her mother pondered for a second. “He didn’t want you to feel bad, I guess. He wanted you to be happy without the guilt.” Her mother paused to let her words sink in. “And I know he’d feel the same now. He’d want you to be happy watching your kids grow, with the Seven Kingdoms at peace, without the guilt of his death.”

“But how could I not feel guilty? We both messed up, but I’m alive and get to see our children grow up, and he’s dead. It’s just not fair.”

Rhaella grinned, “He was obsessed with finding that shell, and I have never seen him smile so big as when he gave it to you. Making you happy made him happy and gave him a purpose. Sure, he found purpose in ruling too, and he was great at it, just as you are. But that was always more of a duty. But with you, he simply loved making you happy.” Dany nodded, smiling through the tears. Her mother held her close and let her sob on her shoulder.

That night, she had her recurring dream about the day she and Jon chose love over duty.

**19 Years Ago**

Jon came back from the North a man grown, with Ghost in tow. Their family was together, but the reunion was short-lived. Only a few months later, Rhaegar, Aegon, and Rhaenys perished in a shipwreck on their way to visit Viserys in Essos. Jon was now king, betrothed to Myrcella Lannister, while she was to live at Highgarden once she married Willas Tyrell. With the deaths and betrothals, Dany felt like she was losing control. The things that had always been a constant in her life were slipping away. She desperately needed to regain control, and she prayed to every god she could think of for help. An answer came when a dream-like voice told her where to find three dragon eggs hidden on Dragonstone. It also told her how she would _claim her dragon_. She wasn’t sure if she could believe the voice, and part of her was afraid she was becoming her father. But she was a dragon, and she had to do something. So, she insisted on a funeral pyre for Rhaegar, Aegon, and Rhaenys. As the bodies burned, she walked to the fire and placed the three eggs inside, one for each of the deceased. Jon sprinted to pull her away from the flames.

After making sure she was alright, Jon laid into her. “Seven hells, Dany! You could’ve burned yourself! What were you thinking? What would I do without you? What . . .” Jon stopped when he heard screeching. Jon’s realization caused his face to display a thousand emotions in rapid succession, eventually stopping on awe. _He is in awe of me_. “You brought dragons back?” He whispered. “You brought dragons back? You brought dragons back . . . You brought dragons back!” He yelled, hugging and spinning her around. He was laughing maniacally, and when he set her down, she saw that his eyes were glistening. She must have been crying too because he wiped her cheek with his thumb. But then his smile faded into a resolve that she had never seen before. _A look that could stop a cavalry charge_. Then the king bent the knee and took her hands in his. She was confused, and for a moment all she could hear was her own pounding heart. Then Jon spoke: “Princess Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen . . . will you be my Queen?” 

It took a second to register what he was asking. When it finally did, she couldn’t speak. “Yes,” she choked. “Yes . . . a thousand times yes!” She jumped into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist and crashing her lips into his. At that moment everything faded away, save for the sound of dragons screeching and direwolves howling.

**Present**

The morning of the wedding day was a blur. She tried to distract herself with the mundane, but her thoughts kept returning to Jon’s death five years ago. Hatching dragons gave them the freedom to reject duty the first time in favor of love. And it had cost them everything. She wouldn’t be selfish this time. _This is what Jon would have wanted_.

To say they were surprised when the Westerlands and Reach rebelled would be an understatement. To be sure, they were quite worried during the first few years after Jon rejected Rhaegar’s betrothals. After all, the wounds were still fresh, and the dragons were still small. But when the rebellion finally occurred, 13 years had passed and the dragons had grown quite formidable. Apparently, the rebels had used the intervening years to attempt to get Dorne, the Vale, and the Stormlands on their side, at least according to Doran who had been sure to mention his loyalty when he sought Dany’s hand for Quentyn. The rebels had also been hard at work developing deadlier and more accurate scorpion bolts to take down the dragons. When they were ready, they tried to lure Jon into a trap by raping and pillaging the Riverlands and burning the weirwoods on the Isle of Faces.

Jon ran straight into their trap and destroyed it. He had a connection with his dragon, Lyannaxes, that allowed him to weave effortlessly through the barrage of scorpion bolts. The rebels would have known this had they seen Jon in battle before. But the only ones who had had not lived to tell the tale. With the rebels distracted by Jon, Dany swooped in with Rhaegal and destroyed the rebel armies. Why they had not accounted for her, she will never know. But she loved being underestimated. The maesters now refer to the battle as the Second Field of Fire. But it was ultimately a hollow victory. Jon was to parlay with the surviving rebels and accept their surrender, and he insisted that she return to protect King’s Landing in case the third faction of rebels, the Stormlords, decided to do something stupid. The Stormlords backed down after seeing both Rhaegal and her mother’s dragon, Viserion.

But Tywin Lannister was not done. At the parlay, Tywin and Mace feigned like they were surrendering, only to reveal a dozen archers who murdered Jon. The plan was for the remnants of the rebel armies to clean up the small, leaderless force Jon had assembled to accept the surrender. But not everything goes according to plan, and they did not account for Lyannaxes. They say Lyannaxes gently picked Jon up in her claws, and then proceeded to annihilate everything in her path. But the few who paid closer attention tell a different tale. Those men say that Lyannaxes did not engage in indiscriminate killing, but that her killing was almost _methodical_. Lyannaxes managed to kill the rebel soldiers, while completely avoiding the king’s men. Then she flew with Jon straight to Highgarden, then directly to Casterly Rock, and then north, never to be seen again.

When Dany heard what happened, she became utterly consumed. She flew over the skies of the Reach and Westerlands, burning every soldier she could find, whether they surrendered or not. _After all they could no longer be trusted to surrender_. She then hunted down every last Lannister and Tyrell, ending their lines for good.

There were whispers of “mad queen” that tainted her victory. And maybe there was some truth to the rumors. _If the love of your life dies, and you don’t go a little crazy, were you really in love?_ Jon’s love had made her flirt with madness, and losing that love, in the way she had, had likely pushed her over the edge. Truthfully, after Jon’s death she didn’t care whether she was loved, as long as she was feared so that her family was safe. But the whispers threatened any lasting peace. The North would be on her side because of Jon and her children, but she needed other allies.

So, Prince Doran offered to stabilize the realm with an alliance, sealed by her marriage to Quentyn. Why anyone would want to marry her, a broken woman, she could never understand. But Quentyn did, or at least Doran wanted Quentyn to. _Stupid_ , Dany smirked as Arya’s voice filled her head. _If anything, Quentyn could serve as a hostage to keep Dorne in line_. Doran likely knew he was playing with fire by pushing the match. But his ambition eclipsed his concern for his son’s safety. _Though it made sense in a way; with Trystane, he had a spare spare_.

Her thoughts returned to the present, where they were all gathered in the Great Sept of Baelor. She looked at her children. Alys was smiling, always supportive. Aemon looked regal, though beneath the surface she could see hints of sadness. With their father’s passing, Alys and Aemon had taken on duties that children their age should not have to face. She still felt guilty that their childhood ended with Jon's death.

Then there was Lyarra. She had her father’s brown hair and grey eyes. And like her father, today her face was ice, revealing nothing except to the few who knew her well. It sometimes hurt to look at her, she looked so much like Jon. _Was that how Rhaegar felt when he looked at Jon? Did he see Lyanna’s ghost when he looked at his son?_

Lastly, there was her youngest, Daeron. The grey eyes beneath his silver hair looked angry, and she couldn’t blame him. Instead, she resolved to make sure her kids would never forget their father. She’d remind them daily about how much he loved them and how he used to spend time with them, even to the point of making lords wait. She’d remind Alys of how Jon used to engage in lively discussions with her over the numerous books they read, Aemon of how Jon used to push him in his sword training and encourage him to apply that dedication to everything else, Lyarra of how Jon used to tell her Old Nan’s stories well past her bed time, and Daeron of how Jon used to place him on his shoulders and run around pretending to be Lyannaxes so Daeron could feel like a dragonrider. The memories caused her to smile for the first time that day.

She looked at the septon who continued to drone on, and sighed. Suddenly, Ghost shot up and ran to Dany, almost knocking her over in excitement. She tried to calm him down, to no avail. After a few seconds, he got tired of waiting for her and sprinted out the doors. It was the fastest she’d seen him run in years. Nymeria and the four younger direwolves soon followed, barking like mad. Arya and her children futilely chased after the wolves. Dany started apologizing, hoping the wolves hadn’t already caused political damage. After about a minute of confusion, roars arose from the crowd assembled outside. The commotion got louder and louder. Dany had no choice but to see, apologizing to both Quentyn and the septon. Quentyn grabbed her arm and said he would protect her, as they walked through the doors of the Sept of Baelor together. Dany half expected to see an army gathered outside with all the chaos and noise.

But it wasn’t an army. _It was only Jon_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is a little timeline based on Jon's age:
> 
> Age 15- Jon goes to Winterfell for a few years  
> Age 17- Ghost!  
> Age 18- Jon returns to King's Landing, Rhaegar, Aegon, and Rhaenys die, Dany hatches dragons!  
> Age 19- Jon and Dany marry  
> Age 20- Alysanne ("Alys") is born  
> Age 22- Aemon is born  
> Age 25- Lyarra is born  
> Age 28- Daeron is born, Ghost and Nymeria have pups!  
> Age 32- Jon dies  
> Age 35- Dany betrothed to Quentyn  
> Age 37- Dany to marry Quentyn, Jon returns!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon reflects on his prior life with Dany and the past five years, then gets to see his love again.

“Only Jon,” he told the red-bearded man clad in seal skins and walrus tusks. The man turned to Tormund.

“I know, isn’t it surprising? Surely the King of the Kneelers would demand a fancy title? Isn’t that what kneelers do all day, sit around and think of fancy titles to make themselves feel important? Har!” Turmond was already acting like he was deep in his cups, and it was only shortly after dawn.

Jon was leaving today to go back to King’s Landing after five years away. A few months ago, he had led the Freefolk through the Wall, and in so doing revealed himself to the Night’s Watch. They were skeptical at first, but once Jon recalled Lyannaxes from Skagos, they had no choice but to believe. Jon and Melisandre had explained that the true threat did not come from Wildlings, but from the Others. He had spent the last few months getting the Watch prepared to face the Long Night, with the help of Maester Tarly and Lord Commander Tollett. He had also spent that time scanning the southern skies every time he heard a noise, his raven to King’s Landing unanswered.

“Well, I’m not your king. But I do expect you all to obey the king’s laws now that you’re south of the Wall. No killing, raping, stealing. Got it?” Jon raised his brow to emphasize his point.

“Aye, we can behave. Well, some of us can.” Tormund leaned close so that his white beard brushed Jon’s shoulder, looked around, and whispered: “It’s the women folk you have to watch out for. These spearwives never listen to anyone.”

“I heard that,” Val rolled her blue-grey eyes. She had a regal air about her despite her upbringing, her honey-blonde hair cascading over her shoulders. “Though I agree with Tormund, you are rather strange for a kneeler.”

“Well, I’m not actually a kneeler. I’m the king, so people kneel to me,” Jon smirked. “Though, I did kneel once.”

“What?” Tormund gave a toothy grin. “Was there an even kinglier king than you? That’s hard to imagine. Har!”

“No, I knelt when I asked my wife to marry me.” Jon was met with quiet, confused looks.

“Har! Har!” Tormund pierced the silence. “I swear, any excuse for you kneelers to kneel. What kind of woman would want a man to kneel to her? You can’t even prove your strength and cunning that way, unlike stealing a woman, which is the proper way to do it.”

Everyone else joined in the mirth except Val, who had a sad look on her face. “I didn’t think royalty got to choose their wives?"

“They don’t, and I was actually betrothed to another. But I’d always secretly hoped to marry Daenerys, ever since she made a promise to me in the Godswood when I was 10. And then she somehow managed to hatch three dragons. At that point, I couldn’t not marry her.”

“She sounds impressive.”

“She is.”

“Well, I was going to try to steal you,” Val jested, “but I guess I shouldn’t even try.”

“I’m sorry again about Jarl,” Jon tried to change the subject.

Val's face grew somber, “He always climbed the Wall too fast. And if he had only known you would let us through,” she said wistfully.

Jon was silent for a few seconds. “Well, I think your decision is a wise one. Dany has ruined me for other women,” he shrugged.

A flash of red caught his eye. Jon looked up and saw Melisandre staring down at him from the King’s Tower.

**5 Years Ago**

“Where am I?”

“You’re just south of the Wall, in a small tower called Queenscrown.”

“Queenscrown? Queen Alysanne?”

“Yes, you still remember your history. That’s a good sign.”

“What happened?”

“You died and were resurrected by the Lord of Light.”

“Are you the red priestess who lives by the Wall? Looking for your promised prince?”

“Not anymore,” she smiled.

“You lost faith?”

“No, I found him.”

Jon was silent, trying to remember. “There was a parlay, but it was all a ruse to murder me. Archers . . . there were so many arrows. . . and all of a sudden I was looking down on my own body. Then I was flying, burning my murderers. I was so angry. Gods, I remember burning whole castles to the ground. I must have dreamed I was a dragon.”

“It was no dream, my King. You were inside your dragon, warging is what the Wildlings call it,” she smirked. “I’ve learned that R’hllor isn’t the only one with magic. But you should be grateful, it allowed you to carry your own body straight here. You were only dead a few days before your resurrection.”

“You resurrected me?”

“The Lord of Light resurrected you. You are his promised prince. One of the three heads of the dragon that will defeat the Others during the Long Night and bring the dawn.”

“Gods, you sound like father.”

“Your father was right about some things,” she corrected gently.

“Was he right about starting a war over a prophecy? I loved him dearly, but he acted foolishly.”

“Maybe. Or maybe he was just acting on the desires R’hllor gave him. Have you ever wondered why you feel such a strong connection to Daenerys?”

“Dany! I have to send a raven to tell her I’m alive,” Jon began to get up.

“No, you cannot.”

“I am, I don’t care what you say.”

Melisandre grabbed him, “You cannot. If you do, she will die. I have seen it in the flames.”

“What in seven hells are you talking about?”

“Listen to me," Melisandre spoke with authority and passion. "You must immediately go north of the Wall to see someone who does not have much time left. Dragons cannot go north of the Wall, which means the Queen would have to seek you on foot. She would perish. And even if you told her not to come, she would not listen. She is a dragon, after all.”

“She is resourceful. If anyone could survive, it’d be her,” Jon argued.

“Your uncle Benjen was the best ranger of the Watch, yet he still perished beyond the Wall. It has nothing to do with the skill of the person. These are perilous times. The Long Night is upon us, winter is here. And if Daenerys were to die, we would be lost.” A bolt of lightning punctuated Melisandre’s warning. “And with the storm outside, you’re not going anywhere for a while, so you may as well stay in here and rest.”

Jon laid back down and began to mull over her words. Melisandre interrupted his thoughts, “You never answered my question, my King. Have you never wondered about your strong connection to the Queen? A connection that was present even when you were children? It is not three _separate dragons_ , but _one_ dragon, with three heads. The three dragons are all connected to one another.”

Jon couldn’t deny the truth as to Dany. But then . . . “Who is the third dragon?”

“Your grandmother, Rhaella.” The red priestess saw the confused look on Jon’s face. “Does she not also have a dragon?”

“Well, yes, but if the three dragons are supposed to fight ice demons,” Jon chuckled, “she’ll be in her seventies.”

Melisandre had a sad look on her face. “Older people can still serve a purpose, my young King. Your great uncle Aemon served as maester of Castle Black until he was a hundred. As long as Rhaella can still sit on a dragon, she is as powerful as an entire army of young men.”

“Aye, I believe you,” Jon did not need reminding of his grandmother’s strength. She had survived the Mad King, and thrived after his death, serving as the heart and soul of House Targaryen. More importantly to Jon, she became his surrogate mother, always making sure he was loved and cared for, despite how angry and jealous it made Viserys. And in the first few years of Jon’s marriage, the three of them had become close. _Very close_.

“It’s an interesting idea. Though I think it’s strange that one of the three heads doesn’t even look like a dragon,” Jon said with a bitterness he thought he’d lost.

Melisandre looked at him wistfully, “My King, there is a reason R’hllor made you look like a Stark, with raven hair and eyes like looking into a storm.” Jon started to get annoyed. “Don’t worry, my King. I would never get between two dragons,” the red priestess reassured, causing Jon to relax a bit. “As I was saying, you are R’hllor’s champion to fight the Others. 8,000 years ago they were defeated in part by the First Men, principally members of House Stark. And they have long memories. When they come this time, they will be looking for Starks to get their revenge.” Jon’s eyes grew wide at the implication of her words. “Have you ever wondered why none of your male Stark cousins have the Stark look? You may be a Targaryen, but you will be the Stark the Others look to fight in the new Battle for the Dawn.”

Jon was quiet for a long time. “When I was younger, I had a recurring dream. I was facing a white monster, with unsettling blue eyes. It never opened its mouth, but I could somehow still hear it speak.” Melisandre’s eyes grew slightly bigger. “It had a voice that sounded like skipping a rock on a frozen lake. It asked, ‘Where is Stark?’ And for some reason, I’d always say, ‘I am Stark.’ Then I would pull out a red-hot sword, which made the creature afraid, and then I’d wake up. Growing up, I was always conscious of the fact that I didn’t look Targaryen. But to have a recurring dream where I admitted to being a Stark . . . it’s like the gods were mocking me.”

Recounting his dream was painful for Jon, but he noticed Melisandre had a different reaction entirely. “My King, this is where you belong. True, in another life you would have gotten here sooner, but better late than never. There is much you need to do. Let Daenerys rule, while you prepare for the Long Night. After all, even Aegon and his sisters would divide and conquer. And then when you two meet again,” Melisandre simply smiled.

**Present**

There was a loud crash behind him as a pile of logs fell from one of the sleds. “Damn!” Tormund shouted. “This rope is useless.”

“Let me help,” Jon volunteered as he stacked the logs again. Jon then weaved the rope around several times, causing the pile to become snug and tight. “There.”

“Where’d ya learn to tie a knot like that? You’re not a sailor.”

Jon grinned, “My wife is stronger than she looks.” Tormund looked confused, but then realized Jon’s implication.

“Har! I like you more and more. See, the trick is to make sure they’re ready first, slick like a baby seal,” Tormund began, prompting groans from the spearwives within ear shot.

**22 Years Ago**

“We have to be quick. I have to meet with some lords soon about my trip north,” Jon shut the door with a determined look.

“Jon, if we don’t have enough time, we can wait until later. Maybe tonight, perhaps?” Dany wiggled her eyebrows.

“No. I have to have you now. If I don’t, I won’t be able to focus during the meeting,” Jon fumbled with his clothes.

“Fine, we can be quick. I think. Here, let me just . . . hold on, I think we’ve almost got it . . . ow!”

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah, it just hurt a little. I don’t know why it’s not going in.”

“It went in just fine before. Did it feel alright then?”

“Jon, I’m not that good of a mummer. You know it did.”

“Why isn’t it working now? Have I gotten bigger? I am still growing.”

Dany rolled her eyes, “Yes, I’m sure that’s _exactly_ it.”

“Well then why?” Jon asked, frustrated.

“Why don’t we just kiss? That should tie you over until we can have a proper coupling,” Dany kissed his ear.

“That’s not how that works. It’ll just make it worse in the meantime.”

“Are you saying you don’t want to kiss me?” Dany pouted.

Jon sighed, then a smile broke across his face. “When did you get so good at manipulating me?” Jon kissed her lips. “You don’t fight fair,” he moved down to her jaw, then her neck, then up to her ear, nibbling her lobe, before finally taking her mouth again. She yielded for his tongue, circling it with her own.

“You should try again,” Dany said after a few minutes.

“Are you sure?”

“Yep.”

Jon furrowed his brow, and then a look of relief spread across his face as he felt himself easily glide into her. “Gods,” he hissed.

Dany smiled knowingly, “See, you just have to work for it a little.” Dany grabbed Jon’s hair and bit her bottom lip as he began to thrust.

“Is it really work if I enjoy it this much?” Jon punctuated his question with another kiss.

**Present**

Jon stood on the Wall, looking south. “You’re looking the wrong way,” Commander Tollett instructed. Despite his position, he admitted that everyone still called him Dolorous Edd. “We wouldn’t be much of a Night’s Watch if we kept looking south.”

“Aye, I guess that’s right,” Jon gave a half-hearted smile, continuing to look south.

“So, you’re a king, and you have a dragon, and a direwolf, and the red woman believes you’re a god or something?” Dolorous Edd began rubbing his hands together to keep warm. “Well, I can wiggle my ears. Can you do that?” Jon could, actually. He had done it all the time to make Dany laugh when she was having a bad day, but he would not kick a man while he was down.

“Nope, I cannot."

“Well, if you’re lucky, maybe I can teach you. After all, what’s the point of being king if you can’t wiggle your ears?”

Jon smirked, “Aye, if we survive the Long Night, that’ll be one of the things I look forward to the most.”

Edd stared at Jon, and then his eyes were drawn to Jon’s waist. “Oh yeah, and you have a Valyrian steel sword. I forgot about that. . . . Did I mention I could wiggle my ears?”

**4 Years Ago**

Melisandre had insisted that Jon journey north of the Wall to speak with the last greenseer while there was still time. The Maester of Castle Black, Samwell Tarly, had let Jon through the Black Gate of the abandoned Night Fort. Apparently, he and Melisandre had befriended one another, often meeting in Mole’s Town to exchange old tomes and news.

 _Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone, and I don’t have any friends to tell, even if I wanted to_. Sam’s words gave Jon pause. Save for Viserys, everyone had been relatively nice to Jon growing up, though he knew the name “Blackfyre” was often whispered behind his back. Aegon was Jon’s best friend, as was Robb once Jon left for Winterfell. _And then of course, there was Dany_. But bookish, gentle Sam did not fit in with the criminals of the Night’s Watch. _A king never forgets_ , he told Sam, and it was at that moment he started scheming.

Once on the other side of the Wall, Jon was greeted by an obnoxious raven that clearly wanted Jon to follow it. His long journey north made him realize how much he took Lyannaxes for granted. But the raven eventually led Jon to a cave beneath an ancient weirwood tree. Inside, Jon was greeted by small creatures that looked as if they had come from one of Old Nan’s stories. They introduced Jon to a skeletal man who was slowly being consumed by the roots of the weirwood tree.

“You must forgive me, King Jaehaerys. For many years I expected another who did not come. Now, I do not have anyone to pass my gifts along to. You are my last hope.”

“Melisandre says you are the last greenseer. But who are you?”

“I was the one who brought the direwolves to you and your Stark cousins, one for each of you, even Sansa.” Jon stifled a laugh. “I was the one who made sure Ghost and Nymeria had a litter to match your own children. You see, direwolves will be an important part of winning the battle for the dawn.” Jon was shocked. He had never contemplated that stumbling upon the direwolves was anything more than coincidence. The greenseer continued, “Dragons will also play an important part, but I cannot take credit for that. You need to thank my paramour, Shiera Seastar.”

 _It can’t be_. “Lord Bloodraven?” The skeletal man smiled sadly. “But how can that be? You disappeared beyond the Wall seventy years ago.”

“Magic can prolong life, though it can also prolong suffering. Shiera and I could not allow ourselves to die, not when we knew what was coming.”

“So Shiera was the voice Dany heard?” Jon was amazed. “Well, I will forever be in her debt. Had Dany not hatched dragons, I’d likely be married to Myrcella Lannister right now.”

“Myrcella was a fine woman, nothing like her mother,” Bloodraven defended.

“Aye, but she wasn’t Dany.”

“No, she was not,” Bloodraven paused for a time. “Did Melisandre tell you about House Targaryen’s role in the Long Night?”

“She told me that Daenerys, Rhaella, and I were the three heads of the dragon.”

“There is more to it than that. You see, while Daenys the Dreamer dreamt of Valyria’s demise, she also foresaw the Long Night. But instead of fleeing, like with the Doom of Valyria, she believed that House Targaryen would fight to bring the dawn. So, they hatched a plan to unite Westeros into a single army, a plan that was eventually carried out by the Conqueror and his sister-wives. Because of them, you can now call upon the entire might of Westeros to stop the Others.” _We’d be able to call on more if it weren't for Tywin and Mace_. “Three dragons, united together, conquered Westeros. Now, 300 years later, three dragons will save it.”

Jon took a deep breath, finally beginning to understand the enormity of what lay ahead. Bloodraven continued, “Shiera and I have a duty to do what we can to bring the dawn. But we had another reason to do what we did . . . we wanted to show that something good came from the Unworthy’s line, after all.”

Jon was taken aback. “Dany and I are from his line,” Jon protested.

“Are you? You look more like a dragonknight to me. To that end, I have something for you.” A child of the forest brought Jon a Valyrian steel sword with a slender pommel. _Impossible_. “Dark Sister is yours, my King. You’ll need it. Valyrian steel kills White Walkers, as does dragonglass, if you can find it. As powerful as dragons are, and they can kill wights by the thousands, they cannot kill the Others. So, you’ll need to gather as much Valyrian steel and dragonglass as you can if you want any chance to bring forth the dawn. But once the last Other dies, its magic dies with it, and the wights will finally be able to rest in peace.”

“Thank you, for everything,” Jon stated, grateful that others had been protecting him without his knowledge all these years.

“You are welcome, though if you knew what was coming, I am not sure you would be so grateful. You will rescue the Wildlings, prepare the Night’s Watch, unite the Seven Kingdoms, and together with your aunt and grandmother, lead the new War for the Dawn. But there is something you must do first, which may be the hardest of all for you.”

**Present**

Jon was back down in the courtyard of Castle Black when a brown-haired wildling woman approached him. “Pardon me, Your Grace, but a bath is being prepared for you,” she said with a soft voice.

“Thank you,” Jon raised his brow in question.

“Gilly, Your Grace”

“Oh, you’re Sam’s friend!” Jon smiled, excitedly.

Gilly beamed momentarily, then tried to contain herself. “Yes, yes I am. Well, if you need anything else, just let me know,” she stated politely and walked away.

**16 Years Ago**

The flicker of candlelight caused shadows to dance on Dany’s face. _Somehow partially concealing her beauty made it even more alluring_. Jon’s thoughts were broken by Dany’s giggle and the swishing of water. “What’s so funny?”

“When I was a girl, still living on Dragonstone, I used to dream of my future husband. He was young and comely, but his face remained a shifting shadow,” she explained. “When I came here, I realized that I was dreaming about you. But now, I know for sure, because you look like a mirror image of the man from my dreams,” Dany smiled bewitchingly.

Jon’s desire began to grow. “Out,” he commanded.

“But we’ve only just got in,” Dany stated coyly.

Jon carried her towel-wrapped body onto the bed, his hunger for her obvious once he dropped his towel. Dany looked at his arousal, “I want to do something we’ve never done before.”

Jon smirked, “I’m not sure there is anything left to do, love. We’ve been together for seven years and married for three.”

“There has to be something,” Dany gave him a seductive look.

“Aye, lay on your back.” Jon started kissing her stomach, then her inner thighs. Dany immediately started playing with her breasts and made sure to spread her legs even wider to give him plenty of access. He kissed her lips, before spreading them and licking the juices already flowing. Only then did he begin to tease her nub, circling all around it before gently caressing it with his tongue. Dany had taught Jon what she liked, with every pull of his hair, and squeeze of her thighs.

Once Dany started grinding her hips, he knew she was close. He pushed her legs back further to get in position, then swiped his tongue over her rosebud. She immediately tensed, “Jon!”

“Shh, it’s fine.” To distract her, he took his fingers to her clit. She started to protest again, but after a few seconds of him circling her nub, she was back to closing her eyes and palming her breasts. Jon continued exploring the outside of her rosebud, occasionally spearing his tongue inside the tight muscle. With the new sensation, it didn’t take long for Dany’s release, which caused her hole to repeatedly constrict.

Dany looked at him, shocked. Jon laughed, “Don’t worry, I won’t ask you to kiss—” Dany brought her lips to his passionately “—me.”

She looked determined, “Alright, my turn.”

**Present**

“Sam, er uh, Maester Tarly,” Jon tried to be more formal when he realized Sam had a visitor. “You asked for me?” Jon was finished with his bath and was preparing to leave.

“Yes, Your Grace. I’ve been at Castle Black for more than twenty years, so I’ve probably read every book in here at least twice. Unfortunately, there isn’t a lot about the Others, or the Long Night. But I’ve gathered the few books that have relevant information. One in particular you might find interesting. It says that there is dragonglass that could be mined on Dragonstone.”

“Sam, that’s great news,” Jon exclaimed, no longer worried about formalities. “After all, we only have so many Valyrian steel weapons. I’ll read the books you provided and see about mining for dragonglass.”

“There’s something else. Your great uncle, Aemon Targaryen, was maester here before me. He left hundreds of letters here when he died. He gave me his blessing to sort through them so that I could give them to you. He often corresponded with your father. Maester Aemon loved hearing all about your family, though it seems Rhaegar talked about you and Daenerys the most.”

This surprised Jon, though he was careful not to show it. “Sam, I don’t know what to say. You have no idea what this means to me.” Jon’s eyes grew misty as his mind began to drift, though a sudden cough brought him back to the present.

“Sorry Your Grace, there’s a sickness going around. Though I’m sure this one will recover soon,” Sam assured.

**7 Years Ago**

“Jon, you don’t have to stay away from me. You know I never get sick,” Dany insisted.

“I know, but I don’t want to risk it. I’ll stay six feet away until I feel better.”

Dany rolled her eyes, “Gods. Well, since my _neglectful_ husband won’t service his wife, the least you can do is help me service myself. Tell me one of your wicked stories,” Daenerys grinned, her fingertips brushing below her navel. They both loved telling each other stories, as they could do things in them that they would never do in real life.

Jon began, “So, in this story, the Usurper wins the Rebellion, killing Rhaegar in the process. And to prove his loyalty, Tywin has Elia, Rhaenys, and Aegon killed, much to the Usurper’s delight.”

“Jon, I want a wicked story, not a sad story.”

“Don’t worry my little dragon, I’m getting there.” Dany rolled her eyes and repositioned herself, her hand slipping beneath the sheets. “But somehow, you and Viserys are able to escape to Essos. And Viserys in this story is like the real Viserys, so he wasn’t the best brother, especially as he got older. He was obsessed with taking back the throne, even if he had to sacrifice you to do so. Which is exactly what he did: he married you to a Dothraki Khal to get an army.”

“Gods, that’s horrible.”

“But here’s the thing, you’re an incredibly resilient person, both in real life and in this story. So, while Viserys wilted in the Dothraki Sea, you only grew stronger. And soon you became a Khaleesi, learning to both ride and rule.” Dany smiled and then bit her lip trying to imagine it, continuing to touch herself.

Jon continued, “But your husband, the Khal, died, causing your Khalasar to go into disarray. However, out of that chaos you hatched three dragon eggs. The remaining Khalasar thought you were a goddess and kneeled before you in awe. The most powerful men in Qarth invited you to come to their city, and begged you to marry them, but you refused. At that time, you thought about going home to Westeros, but you decided to wait until your dragons were bigger. In the meantime, you decided to completely reshape Essos. You acquired an Unsullied army by dragons and cleverness, and then conquered the cities of Slaver’s Bay one by one. With each conquest you freed the slaves and repaid the cruel masters for their years of abuse. Sellsword armies flocked to you. You eventually became Queen of Meereen and resided in a glorious pyramid. At 16, you were the most powerful person in the known world.” Dany’s fingers began to move more rapidly beneath the sheets, and her breathing quickened. “But you knew that wasn’t your destiny. You had a duty to House Targaryen to take back the Iron Throne. So, once your dragons were big enough to fly, you sailed your massive army west, and it didn’t take long for King Robert, Tywin, and the rest to bend the knee.”

“Don’t stop, Jon.”

“But this is where it gets interesting, my Queen. You didn’t just make them bend the knee. You _humiliated_ them for the humiliation they caused House Targaryen all those years before. You made every lord, from lord paramounts to minor lords, kiss your feet. You then made the lords who committed the worst crimes into servants, serving those who had previously served them, with or without clothes, depending on the offense,” Jon grinned as Dany moaned.

He resumed, “But you saved the best for the Usurper himself, the man who had laughed when Aegon and Rhaenys were murdered.” Dany was oblivious to the squelching noises she was making as she continued to moan. “You were kind and allowed him to become your fool in lieu of execution. And so every day you made him strip naked in the throne room, to make sure he wasn’t hiding his war hammer, and swear fealty to House Targaryen by kissing your feet. And then he had to put on his fool’s costume. The best part was the antlers you made him wear. You said it was in honor of House Baratheon, but the fact that you made sure to have his wife, Cersei Lannister, parade her new lovers in front of him suggested a different meaning.” Dany was getting close now. “But you were generous, my Queen. You were worried that the king would get lonely with Cersei so busy with her new ‘activities,’ so you had a life-sized Cersei doll made, just for him. If the Usurper was a good little fool, and kissed your feet, and made you laugh, you’d let him spend five minutes with his ‘wife.’ He liked that, as he was a man with an enormous appetite. However, if he did not make you laugh, then you kept the doll from him, no matter how much he begged, and didn’t allow him any relief.”

Dany gasped and shuddered as she squeezed her legs tight together. She then relaxed, her forehead glistening. Jon continued, “I’m not done, my Queen. However, for this next part, you won’t be allowed to use your hands.” Dany shot him an annoyed look, but did not argue, instead reaching for a pillow, which she slowly straddled. “You see, while you were busy humiliating those who had wronged our house, a certain Northern bastard was busy consolidating power and taking back the North from the Boltons, who had usurped the Starks.” Dany smiled, as Jon had told her about Ned Stark’s wild idea to raise Jon as his bastard had Robert won at the Trident. _It made Dany respect my uncle even more_. “This lowly bastard wound up with the support of the North, Riverlands, and Vale. You grew annoyed at his refusal to bend the knee, as well as a little nervous, so you invited him to King’s Landing. You thought when he took one look at your dragons, he’d cower like everyone else.”

“But I was wrong,” Dany finished for him, her eyes closed, licking her lips.

“You were wrong. In fact, it was the opposite. When he showed up flanked by a white direwolf the size of a small horse, you were taken aback, as were your guards. And then when your dragons were friendly to him, and one even offered its back, you realized that there was only one thing you could do.”

“Marry him.”

“But he rejected your offer,” Jon continued, as Dany frowned but continued moving slowly on top of the pillow. “You were shocked, as you had never been rejected before. You were used to men throwing themselves at you, from rulers, to merchants, to sellswords. But this bastard was different, and he wasn’t impressed with your pretentious titles.”

“There’s nothing wrong with titles,” Dany countered.

“One or two, maybe, but six or seven?”

Dany huffed, “Continue.”

“There was something else. See, you might be the most powerful person in the known world, but the Northern bastard knew you were also a genuinely good person, who in her heart wanted to please people. He could also tell that, despite your power, deep down you liked to submit. And he exploited that, as bastards are want to do. It’s their treacherous nature, you see, according to the teachings of the Seven,” Jon grinned, but Dany was too distracted to roll her eyes this time.

Jon resumed, “So the Northern bastard said he would marry you and unite the Seven Kingdoms _only_ if you could prove yourself worthy. To do so, you had to get down on your knees in front of all the lords and ladies, make him fully hard, and then take _all of him_ in your mouth.” Dany whimpered and grabbed her breast. “You accepted the challenge. Though you struggled and gagged a few times which caused your eyes to water, eventually you managed to prove yourself worthy that day. Thus, you united the Seven Kingdoms, not with your sword, but with your mouth, like a good little whore Queen. You’d made every other king submit, but now you were just a bastard’s little pet. And he made sure everyone knew it, too. He fashioned your crown into a collar to wear around your neck, as every pet needs a leash. He even made you dress like a courtesan.”

Dany was bucking faster now, the dimples that momentarily appeared on her cheeks while she humped the pillow threatened to unhinge him. But he stayed the course, “Oh, and he had a girl back north that he promised to love before you so rudely demanded he come bend the knee to you. A wildling girl, as he was a bastard, after all. He left her but promised that he’d never father children with another. And he kept that promise, while also fulfilling his husbandly duties to you, _in a way_ ,” Jon gave a wicked grin. “He would only fuck your arse.”

Dany gasped, and wet her finger to help her reenact the story. Jon continued, “Every night, you’d beg him to take you properly, so you could produce an heir. But he refused, and said that if you didn’t enjoy it, you could sleep separately. However, you could never manage to leave his bed,” Jon’s smile was sinister.

“Fuck, Jon, fuck!”

After several minutes, Dany broke the silence. “Don’t smile at me, you're the one who made me how I am. I was never like this before.”

“What?” Jon feigned protest. “ _You_ started it when you were 14. I was as pure as the driven snow, but you tried to corrupt me before I went North.

“Well, I had to make sure you weren’t going to be tempted by Northern girls. After all, I know the effect they have on Targaryen men,” Dany raised her brow to emphasize her point.

“Well, maybe if Arya was older,” Dany slapped his shoulder in mock offense.

“And not Sansa?”

“Gods no, she’s too Southern. And what about the effect that Northern men have on Targaryen women?”

Dany tried to suppress a smile, “There may be a . . . slight effect.”

“Slight?”

Dany remained poised, “Yes, not quite imperceptible.”

“Well, if that’s the case, you’ll only _slightly_ mind sleeping by yourself tonight.”

Dany’s face fell, “Alright fine, you win. . . . It’s the accent.”

**Present**

Lyannaxes had returned to Castle Black after her early morning hunt. Though she had been around the past few months, by the way they were gawking, you’d think it was the first time the residents of Castle Black had ever seen her.

Well, except Tormund, whose usual carefree countenance was replaced with deep worry lines on his forehead. “Do you think the Dragon Queen will fight for us?” he finally asked.

Jon nodded, “I’ve never been surer of anything. It’s who she is.”

Tormund exhaled in relief. “Don’t forget to tell her about Torwynd . . . and Willa.”

**1 Year Ago**

“Would you like to see my doll?” the little girl asked, holding it up for Jon to get a good look. The girl had the same brown hair as Lyarra, _though Lyarra preferred a dragon doll over a human one_ , Jon smirked. _I’ll see her soon_.

“Are we really leaving Hardhome?" the girl continued. "I’ve always lived near here, but I’ve read a few books about other places. Are we going to get to see a castle? A real castle? With a tower, and a moat and draw bridge? Mother says there are castles everywhere south of the Wall.” Val looked to see Jon’s reaction, but smiled when she saw Jon stop and grin. He had spent weeks convincing Mance, Tormund, and Val to march the Freefolk south of the Wall _peacefully_. They were skeptical that the crows at Castle Black would let them through without a fight. _They will if I tell them to_ , Jon had convinced them.

“Yes, we’re going south of the Wall, and yes, there are castles there. In fact, there’s a nice tower not too far from the Wall that’s in the middle of a lake. I can take you there if you want,” Jon offered.

The little girl beamed, “Willa, my name’s Willa.”

“Nice to meet you, Willa. My name’s Jon.”

“Well, I’m going to go look for my older sister. She is going to be so excited when she finds out that you’re going to take us to a castle!” Willa ran off, the world at her fingertips.

After a few minutes, they heard a low, ominous rumble. The wind picked up and the sky darkened, as if a storm were coming. Jon looked into the distance, and soon had a sinking feeling when it appeared that the mountain was covered in ants.

“Wights,” Tormund gasped.

“Shut the gate!” Mance commanded. “Everyone on the boat, now!” _If anyone could make the Freefolk obey an order, it was him_.

It didn’t take long for the gate to start bending, but before it could break, Jon saw wights emerging over the top.

“Fuck, the dragonglass!” Jon realized that Mance’s stash was still inside. It took him a second to find it, but when he turned to leave, a walker was blocking his path. _Stark_ , he heard a voice in his head that sounded like ice. Jon dropped the glass and drew his sword, as did the walker. The two clashed ferociously. Jon blocked a heavy downswing, his entire arm reverberating. _They’re strong_. Jon countered with a slice, which the walker deftly spun away from. _They’re quick, too_. But the most unsettling thing was that they never seemed to tire. The walker kept up its inhuman pace for several minutes straight. Jon likely would’ve lost had things kept going, but fortunately for him he stumbled, prompting the walker to move in for the kill. Jon narrowly avoided the cut, while the walker left itself overextended in its eagerness to finish him. Jon cut into the walker, shattering it like glass.

Val had saved him a seat. “Do you really want to be resurrected twice?” she scolded. Bodies littered the ground. As they were drifting away, a walker approached the water’s edge. _Watch_ , an icy voice permeated Jon’s head. The walker slowly raised its arms, causing the surrounding dead to rise. Jon’s eyes were drawn to one in particular, smaller than the others, with a doll in its hand. After a few seconds, it dropped the doll and picked up a knife.

**Present**

As Jon was making last-minute preparations, his silver-haired traveling companion came up beside him. Though the last few years had seen his death, resurrection, battle with ice demons, and befriending of Wildlings, by far the _strangest_ part had been reconciling with his uncle.

Jon may have become _slightly_ petulant four years earlier when Bloodraven insisted that Jon bring Viserys home for Rhaella’s sake. It was not his kingliest moment, to be sure. _He doesn’t deserve it!_ Jon argued, though Bloodraven’s response ended the debate: _No, but she does_.

**3 Years Ago**

“No.”

Jon was done with diplomacy. “Listen here you _complete_ piece of shit. Father, Aegon, and Rhaenys lost their lives trying to convince you to come home and make you see reason. And yet still you cower here, you ungrateful fuck! And your mother, who birthed you, and cared for you, and loved you, and somehow still loves you, even though you don’t fucking deserve it, wants you to come home. She doesn’t have that many years left, Viserys. So get your shit together and get your arse on that gods damn boat before I warg into Lyannaxes and fucking burn you alive!” Jon yelled.

“How do you know she still loves me?” Viserys had a pained look on his face. Jon looked at his uncle carefully. He could see that, despite Viserys's immaturity and petulance, he was genuinely scared that his mother no longer loved him. His apprehension was understandable, though it was unfounded. But Jon knew exactly what cyvasse piece to play.

“Viserys, do you know the name of your mother’s dragon?”

“No, she probably named it after Rhaegar, her golden boy who could do no—“

“Viserion,” Jon interrupted. “Viserion,” Jon emphasized again. Jon didn’t say anything after that. He had long ago learned from Dany the power of silences.

“Aye, I’ll go,” Viserys finally yielded. “Wait, did you say that Valyrian steel kills the Others? Well, we may need to make a stop in Pentos,” he grinned.

**Present**

Jon looked at the ruby pommel on Viserys’s hip. _I didn’t think he had it in him, and apparently neither did Illyrio_. Jon looked his uncle in the eye, “I need you to serve as a witness. You’ve seen the wights in the ice cells.”

“I’ve seen more than that,” Viserys said solemnly. “Of course, I’ll tell them what I’ve seen. I’ll tell them you’re not crazy,” Viserys cracked a smile.

“My King.”

Jon turned to see Melisandre. Though he'd been avoiding it the past few months, he needed to tell her the truth, and maybe they'd have enough time to come up with another plan. “I’m sorry, but I’m not him. I’m not your prince. When I fought the walker at Hardhome, my sword didn’t heat up.”

Mel looked confused, and then worried. But soon a realization occurred to her and her face became serene again. “Just remember, there is power in king’s blood,” her confidence almost convinced him.

**26 Years Ago**

“Please don’t ever make me king. Nobody’d believe that I’m a true Targaryen. Everyone would rebel. There would be a war. Thousands would die! Please keep Aegon safe and make him have many sons,” Jon prayed before the heart tree.

“I’m sorry for what my brother said,” a meek voice interrupted his pleas. Jon wiped his eyes and turned to Dany as she spoke. “You’re just as much a Targaryen as any of us. And I like your raven hair, and your grey eyes. It’s like looking into a storm.”

Jon looked away, embarrassed. “I just worry that people wouldn’t accept me if something were to happen to Aegon. I’d rather Aegon live and have many sons so I can just stay in the shadows. That way no one would care that I don’t look Targaryen.”

Dany looked concerned, but then she had an idea. “You just need a wife to help you look the part. We could marry in case something happened to Aegon. For the sake of the realm, I mean. Some of our children would no doubt look Valyrian, though I also hope that some would look like you.” Dany turned away, but then turned back to him, looking at him like he’d never been looked at before. Then she kissed him. “For the realm,” she whispered.

“For the realm,” Jon agreed, eyes wide. He had never been kissed before, and his heart was pounding as if he’d just finished fighting Ser Arthur Dayne. Jon looked down, seeking to avoid the impending awkwardness. “What’s that you’re holding?”

“Oh, it’s a book about shells.”

**Present**

Flying to King’s Landing, Jon had never been more scared. _Was she angry at me for not contacting her? Is that why she didn’t return my raven from a few months ago? What will she think of my scars? She used to tell me how much she loved my smooth chest and stomach. But now_ . . . Jon tried to block these thoughts. _There was no sense dwelling on something that may never occur_.

He had planned to arrive the morning of the ceremony, but he was cutting it close since he had to make a few unexpected stops. _Apparently, the size of Viserys’s bladder matched his heart_.

When they landed, the crowd assembled outside the sept went mad. Ghost was the first to greet him, almost knocking him over, his tail a white blur. Then he saw her, and his heart stopped. But he noticed she was holding the arm of another man. He felt as if he had been punched in the gut, as if he couldn’t breathe. But then she tore herself from the man beside her and jumped into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist and crashing her lips into his. _Just like when I asked her to be my Queen_.

She eventually stopped for air. “How?”

“The red priestess at the Wall resurrected me. I’ll explain everything, I promise.”

“Do you promise you’re real? Promise me Jon!” Dany begged.

“Yes, I promise.” Dany wailed, her body racked with sobs. He couldn’t say how long they held each other, trembling, while the world faded away.

His euphoria was broken by a hand on his shoulder. “Father,” Aemon smiled. _Gods he’s grown_. Jon greeted his children and grandmother with bear hugs and copious kisses.

Afterwards, he turned again to Dany, overwhelmed with desire. He kissed her hard, leaning her back almost parallel to the ground, supporting her in his arms. When he raised her back up their foreheads touched, and his tears returned. “I didn’t think it was possible to be this happy,” he whispered. “My heart feels like it’s going to explode.”

“Well, don’t die on me again, Jon,” Dany joked. _I am whole. I am home_.

“What fowl sorcery is this? You can’t kiss her, she is to be my wife!” the man who had earlier held her arm complained. _That must be Quentyn_. Jon released Dany and looked at the man who wanted to take his wife from him, his Queen, the mother of his children. Jon squinted his eyes. _Lyannaxes would be the quickest, but Ghost deserves it more after my five-year absence. No, I’ll be selfish. Valyrian steel would be quicker, but my bare hands would be more satisfying._ Lyannaxes and Ghost, sensing his anger, begin moving menacingly towards Quentyn.

“No Jon, let me.” Dany turned, marching straight up to Quentyn. The slap she gave him reverberated throughout the City. “You’re not worthy of a dragon!” She then turned to Jon with a look of fierce determination. “My King, you have neglected your marital duties. You have much to make up for,” she beckoned him with her hand.

Jon smiled, “You’re right, my Queen. I will soon call a small council meeting to explain everything, but first I’d like to spend some time with my family.” As Jon began gathering his children he heard shouts of “Long Live the King!” which soon morphed into “Dra-gon-wolf!” As Jon approached Dany, out of the corner of his eye he saw Rhaella hugging Viserys fiercely and crying. _Bloodraven was right_. He glanced at Quentyn, a giant bruise beginning to appear on his face. _Well, this is one for the history books. What will they call it? Maybe the Purple . . . Un-wedding?_ Jon smirked. He also saw the Master of Whisperers, Jon Connington, with a look of apprehension on his face.

After an emotional lunch with his family, he was finally alone with Dany for the first time in five years. Dany started kissing him ravenously, then stopped. “Why didn’t you send a raven?”

“Melisandre told me that you’d die trying to see me if I did. I had to immediately go beyond the Wall, where dragons cannot go, and where walkers and wights stalk the land.” Dany slapped him. Then kissed him, then slapped him again. “I did send a raven a few months ago,” Jon tried to defend himself.

“Well I never received it!” _That explains why Jon Connington looked like he shit himself_. “Take off your clothes and get on the bed. Now!” she ordered.

Jon hesitated; he had been dreading this. “Dany, I don’t look the same. Mel resurrected me, but she didn’t heal my scars.”

Dany’s anger quickly dissolved, replaced with maternal concern. “I want to see. Jon, I want to see,” she insisted, gently.

Jon took off his shirt. “We don’t have to . . . I know it’s disturbing to look at, and could take some getting used to, if you ever do.” Dany put her finger to Jon’s lips.

“Shhh. Come here my dragonwolf.” She began kissing each of his scars. “I have something to tell you, but it’s important, so I want you inside of me when I do.” Dany disrobed. _Gods help me_. Jon’s heart quickened, and he felt warmth surging through him at the sight of her beauty. When Jon entered her, she was tighter than he last remembered. _It feels so good. Five years. I've been waiting five fucking years for this_. They lay on their sides, Dany’s leg wrapped over his waist, while her hand played with his hair and beard. She stared intensely into his eyes, _just like the time she first kissed me_.

“You’re not the only one with scars, Jon," she continued. "Your death broke me. I went crazy and did things I regret.”

“They deserved it.”

“It doesn’t matter. Had it not been for mother and the children, I wouldn’t have survived. I’m not and never will be the same. The truth is, we’re both scarred, and we’re both broken. But we can be scarred and broken together, you see.” She kissed him. “Do you remember what I promised you all those years ago?”

“That you’d be my home.”

“That’s right. And I’ve kept that promise, and always will. Homes don’t sprout legs and walk away if you leave. They’re always there for you when you come back. No matter what you’ve done, or what you should’ve done differently, or how different you look. I’m still here, my door’s open. Come inside me, my love, relax and enjoy yourself. You fucking deserve it.”

Jon nuzzled into her neck, more content than he had ever been. “Here,” she said, offering him her breast. He suckled for a few moments, then finished making her erect with his tongue and teeth. “And there are four little sheds you get to enjoy as well. Or is it three? Two of the sheds are practically one now.”

“Alys and Aemon?”

Dany nodded, “How did you know?”

“I suspected as much. Shortly before the rebellion, I caught them holding hands. I wouldn’t have thought anything of it, but when they noticed me, they immediately let go and pretended like it never happened, all the while turning the same color as our sigil,” Jon chuckled. “It’s for the best. Alys would make a great co-ruler with Aemon.”

Dany smiled, “That she would.”

They talked for hours about the past five years. There was so much ground to cover. Jon had had so many interesting things happen to him, and he missed having his favorite person to share with.

“She was right, you know,” Dany confided after a long period of silence.

“What?”

“I would’ve come for you. I would’ve marched straight through an army of Others if I had to.”

“Well, now we get to face the Others together. You, me, and Rhaella. The three heads of the dragon. They’re fucked.”

“Not as much as you’re about to be,” Dany grinned as she climbed on top of him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhaella, Dany, and Jon enjoy their reunion and prepare for the Long Night.

**RHAELLA POV**

_Only Jon_.

Her 10-year-old daughter’s words echoed in her mind as she watched the Queen jump into Jon’s arms outside the sept. She had asked Dany if there were any handsome squires she might want to marry one day. She was hoping for a blush and a few names so she could make some lighthearted conversation and bond with her only girl. Instead, her daughter turned solemn and gave an answer that was akin to a vow. Rhaella thought this was strange, but did not worry too much. Then she caught Jon combing the shores of Blackwater Bay looking for a conch shell merely because Dany mentioned offhandedly that she wanted one. At that point, Rhaella knew she needed to plan for the inevitable and pray that it didn’t lead to war. Unfortunately, her prayers went unanswered in the end.

A ghost appeared from the other side of Lyannaxes and she froze. _It cannot be_. Her son had run off around the time Jon left to go North. Viserys was always jealous and entitled. He was envious of Rhaegar and Aegon, upset that he wouldn’t be able to marry Rhaenys or Daenerys. There were political reasons, of course, and those were the reasons given to Viserys. But the truth of the matter is that neither girl liked Viserys, and she couldn’t blame them. Rhaegar promised her that he’d bring Viserys back when he went on his diplomatic trip to Volantis with his two eldest. But instead of getting a son back, she lost the other one as well, in addition to two grandchildren. She was completely devastated and would’ve been completely lost had it not been for her daughter and grandson’s comfort. She knew that their marriage was politically unwise, but she was too emotionally scarred to care. In fact, she _needed_ them to be happy, for her own sake. So, she supported their love for one another, and for better or worse, they welcomed her in. After all, they (and later their children) were the last family that Rhaella had. _Until now_.

After embracing Jon, she turned to her son in shock. “What made you come back?”

“Jon said you named your dragon after me.”

“Is that really all it took?”

“That, and the threat of being burned alive,” Viserys shrugged. “But mainly the dragon. I didn’t think you still loved me,” Viserys turned when his voice changed, ashamed of the unbidden tears.

“My son, a mother never stops loving her children. It is not something we are even capable of doing.” She hugged Viserys tightly and cried, as did he.

Lunch was full of healing. Jon talked little about his resurrection, choosing instead to talk about the Night’s Watch and the Wildlings, or Freefolk (as he called them). He mainly asked his children questions about what they’d done the past five years, his smile growing wider in excitement over every little detail of every mundane story. _He was always such a good listener_. Even Viserys beamed as he got to explain to a wide-eyed Aemon how he came to possess Blackfyre. Apparently, Illyrio Mopatis courted Viserys for a potential power grab, allowing Viserys to stay with him for several months. Viserys ultimately refused any of Illyrio’s machinations (he was bitter, not stupid), but got to know Illyrio’s house well, including where he kept Blackfyre and how well it was guarded. However, the question on everyone’s mind was not voiced until Jon and Dany had retired to their room.

“If father has been alive almost this whole time, why didn’t he send a raven?” Lyarra asked.

“I’m sure he had a good reason, sweetling, because you know he would move mountains to be able to see you,” Rhaella comforted, trying also to convince herself.

“He does, I promise,” Viserys vouched sincerely, causing Rhaella relief. “But I’ll let him tell you.”

“He better, or he’ll regret it,” Arya smirked. Arya was considered part of the family. She had come back with Jon from Winterfell when he was 18. Rhaegar had to excuse himself when he first saw her, which hurt Arya’s feelings until Jon explained it was because she looked so much like her Aunt Lyanna. She was only supposed to stay a year in King’s Landing, Lady Stark hoping it would help make her into a lady. But her and Jon were like brother and sister, and she also grew close with Dany. After Jon had a skinny sword forged for her and allowed her to train daily, any hope of her becoming a proper lady vanished faster than the pride of the male squires she routinely beat. She had been here ever since, becoming like a second parent to the children after Jon’s supposed death, particularly to Lyarra, who had more of the North in her than her siblings (she had even named her white direwolf “Snow”).

“Why isn’t he spending time with us right now?” Daeron asked, clearly hurt, prompting Alys to hug him and kiss the top of his head. Daeron was the most emotional of the children, but he had a good heart.

“It’s important for mother and father to spend time together, just the two of them. You’ll understand when you’re older,” Aemon answered. He glanced at Alys, who caught his eye for a moment then looked away. _They cannot hide anything from their grandmother, though they still try_.

“Daeron, why don’t you show us all the new painting mother had done for your room. I’m sure Uncle Viserys would love seeing such a detailed depiction of the Battle Above the Gods Eye,” Alys winked at Viserys, and Viserys smiled. _Gods, he’s finally grown up_.

As they all walked to Daeron’s room, they saw Ser Oswell Whent and Ser Arys Oakheart standing guard outside the Queen’s chambers. Ser Oswell, who had guarded the King and Queen for decades, nodded nonchalantly as they walked by. But Ser Arys, who had only been appointed after the King’s supposed death, clearly looked uncomfortable.

“Fuuuuuuck!!! Jon!!!!!! Fuuuuuuck! Gooooooods!!!” Alys covered Daeron’s ears as they all quickened their pace past the chambers.

**18 Years Ago**

Rhaella, Dany, and Jon laughed their way from Rhaella’s nameday feast back to their chambers, with flushed cheeks and easy grins. The three of them had grown closer in the wake of Rhaegar, Aegon, and Rhaenys’s deaths. She would often lay in bed with them and tell them stories about her childhood until they all fell asleep. They were particularly interested in Ser Bonifer Hasty, the Stormlands knight who had caught her fancy as a girl. And that’s not to mention the conversations her and Daenerys would have when it was just the two of them. To her surprise, her daughter was very open about her intimate moments with Jon, eagerly sharing how he kissed and touched, though she made Rhaella promise to keep it a secret. In contrast to Rhaella’s relationship with Aerys where she was always submissive, Dany was feisty with Jon, and her husband loved it, often goading her on. No doubt Dany recognized Rhaella’s desperation for an intimacy she had always been denied. And admittedly, Rhaella got a thrill out of experiencing it vicariously through her own daughter, who was more than happy to oblige.

She thought tonight would be just like the others, a few stories, and then they’d all fall asleep together. But her daughter had something else in mind. “Jon, it’s mother’s nameday, did you know?”

Jon grinned, “Really, I hadn’t realized. I assumed the feast and dancing were to celebrate the haircut I got this morning.”

Dany rolled her eyes, “I think we both deserve massages.”

“Both? I didn’t realize it was your nameday as well.”

“It’s not, but I’ll be nice and allow you to give me one anyways. Now, please give us a bit of privacy,” Dany nodded towards the door and Jon left.

When he came back in, he was met with Rhaella’s bare back and legs, though her most important parts were still covered. Her daughter, on the other hand, was completely nude. Jon was silent for a while.

“Jon, now is not the time for your Stark honor,” Dany chided her husband. “After all, you owe a duty to the women in your life to make them feel good, do you not?”

“Aye, I do, I suppose.” Rhaella heard him applying the oil to his hands. She assumed he would start with his wife and was surprised when he walked over to her side of the bed. He began kneading her shoulders gently, then more firmly. The initial tingles that shot through her body at his touch gave way to waves of relaxation as he slowly worked his way down her back. After several minutes caressing her back, he began pressing his thumbs into the soles of her feet, then moved his hands up her calves, then halfway up her thighs, before stopping. Neither she nor Dany would have minded if he went a little further, but he was as much Ned Stark’s son as Rhaegar’s.

He then moved to his wife, and Rhaella made sure to turn her head to get a good view. Daenerys was very receptive to his touch, her desire apparent. Jon lightly brushed his fingertips along the back of her thighs, stopping just short of where Dany obviously wanted, as her daughter’s breathing became more audible. He rubbed the soles of her feet, then calves, then up her thighs higher and higher. Dany instinctively spread her legs wider for him, and he rested his fingers a hair’s breadth away from her womanhood, slowly moving them back as Dany shifted in an attempt to close the distance. He moved up to her shoulders, causing Dany to whimper. He worked on her upper back for a while, to a chorus of hums and moans from his wife, then slowly worked his way back down. When he got to her backside, he began kneading her hips, then ghosted his fingertips across her cheeks, causing her to wiggle her hips. By the time he started kneading her arse firmly, he was met with a loud moan.

“Jon,” Dany mewled. “Please.”

Jon looked at his grandmother, concerned. Sensing this, Dany suggested that Jon give them another minute of privacy. When he returned this time, Rhaella was sitting in a nearby chair, wearing a robe, while Dany was still as naked as her nameday on the bed.

“Please finish my King, it was just getting good. After all, mother deserves a show for her nameday,” Dany turned to her with a grin. Rhaella was initially hesitant, but her daughter could be very persuasive.

Rhaella watched as Jon’s fingers entered his wife, while he kissed the nape of her neck, shoulders, and down her spine. He rolled her over and kissed her lips passionately, and Rhaella was surprised at how her daughter kissed back with a fury she had never seen. He peppered her body with kisses, whispering in her ear words Rhaella couldn’t quite place, though they were clearly having the desired effect as Dany whimpered and stared at her husband with hooded eyes. His fingers continued massaging her womanhood, causing Dany to grab her breasts and pinch her nipples. As his fingers began circling the same spot, Dany’s moans got louder until she peaked in a cascade of trembles.

“Inside me, now,” her daughter commanded, and her grandson obliged, taking his wife slowly while continuing to whisper in her ear. As his pace slowly increased, so did the volume of her moans, until Rhaella had no doubt that the kingsguard heard. But the King and Queen didn’t care, and neither did Rhaella. Eventually, she lost track of time, and it was only when she looked down at her wrinkled fingers that she realized the length of their performance. That night they all fell asleep together, content and loved. It was her best nameday since she was a child.

**Present**

After it became apparent that the King and Queen would not be leaving their chambers the rest of the evening, Rhaella hugged her son and grandchildren and went back to her own chambers.

“Hello love,” a Flea Bottom accent greeted her.

“Hello dear,” she kissed him.

Ser Davos had been the King’s Hand ever since the King demoted Jon Connington to Master of Whisperers early in his reign. Jon met Davos while working with the residents of Flea Bottom. He quickly became impressed by Davos’s work ethic and plain talk, as it reminded him of the North. _He’s the perfect Hand: unlike Connington he believes in me and Dany, but unlike everyone else he’s not afraid to tell me when I’m wrong_ , the King had confided. Rhaella was pleasantly surprised to find that her and Davos were often on the same side in debates, favoring gradual change and working within current institutions, in contrast to the King and Queen who were more idealistic.

And then her daughter began inviting her to lunches with Jon and Davos, ostensibly to talk about the realm, but without fail the conversation would turn personal. Davos would talk about his sons and his wife who passed away years before, while Jon and Dany would make sure Rhaella talked about her own children and grandchildren. After a few of these lunches, Jon and Dany would inevitably have to leave partway through to tend to young Alys, telling them that they should finish up. It took several of these partial lunch dates before Ser Davos worked up the courage to ask her on a real lunch date, just the two of them. His reason, discussing expanding the royal fleet, was clearly pretextual, or else he would have asked the Master of Ships to lunch. But Rhaella humored him and agreed, and by the end she quipped that they had not talked about a single ship. _Well, I guess we’re going to have to have lunch again then, since this one was such a failure_ , the Hand had said with a twinkle in his eye. She felt herself smile a smile she had not smiled since a knight from the Stormlands had named her the queen of love and beauty.

“I have a feeling tomorrow’s small council meeting will have some fireworks,” Davos said, breaking her thoughts.

She smirked, “Jon Connington will soon find out what it’s like to wake the dragon.”

**DANY POV**

She woke up in bed alone and began panicking, thinking it was all a dream. She stormed around the room looking for traces of his clothes but couldn’t find any. She was about to look for her mother when the door opened. Jon entered with a tray of fresh fruit, bread, eggs and iced milk.

“I assume you still like peaches?” he asked with raised brow.

“You know me well. Thank you, Jon.” Dany felt relief and warmth at both his existence and thoughtfulness.

“Oh, I didn’t do it for you. I just want you to be well-nourished so you can better kick Connington’s arse this morning.” Dany snorted her milk.

When Dany and Jon entered the small council room hand in hand, everyone was already assembled, including Rhaella, Viserys, and Ser Davos, the King’s Hand. There was also Master of Ships, Wylis Manderly, Master of Laws, Randyll Tarly (whom she noticed was receiving a glare from the King), Master of Coin, Rodrik Harlaw, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, Ser Oswell Whent, Grand Maester Marwyn (who, despite his age, was always her and Jon’s favorite small council member), and of course, Master of Whisperers, Jon Connington (who did not look pleased to be there).

The Queen began, “We have much to talk about, but there is an important matter I must address first. Lord Connington?” The man attempted to steel himself, but his nervousness was plain to see. “The King told me that he sent a raven to King’s Landing three months ago informing that he was alive. Did you receive any raven?”

“I can explain. I thought it was a sick joke, a hoax. I didn’t want to bring you any further anguish by getting your hopes up on what was likely a false message.”

“Am I a child, Lord Connington? Are you my father?” Lord Connington looked away as he knew where this way going. Her voice began to rise, “No, I am an adult, a Queen, a mother, who has been through more anguish than you could possibly imagine and endured even more because you decided not to give me the raven my husband sent! Did you not think that I could tell his handwriting? His word choice? The way his thoughts connect from one sentence to the next? I know my husband, probably better than I know myself. You don’t. I could have told you within a moment whether that raven was fake. If it was, I would have thrown it away without another thought. But if it was real . . . well, that would have changed everything. But you denied me that. You denied me that! And because of you I came within a hair of marrying Quentyn Martell! Of having to sleep with Quentyn Martell!”

She raised her chin and lowered her voice. “Lord Connington, you are hereby stripped of your title of Master of Whisperers and banned from ever entering King’s Landing. You will leave the City immediately. Do you understand?”

“My King,” Lord Connington immediately began pleading with Jon.

“Enough! When the Queen gives you an order, you obey it. You don’t ask for a second opinion. Get out!” Connington hesitated, still in shock. “I said, get out!” Jon drew Dark Sister and Ghost lunged forward. Jon Connington flipped his chair over and hit the ground, running out the door.

The Queen continued, “We have already chosen a replacement for Lord Connington as the new Master of Whisperers. Arya Stark, please come forward.” Arya was her idea, and to say that the King was pleased would be an understatement. Arya sauntered forward, Nymeria by her side.

“If I may ask,” Lord Tarly began, “what qualifications does she have for this position?”

“She will have access to more ears and eyes than anyone who came before her,” Grand Maester Marywn interjected. Lord Tarly looked confused, but ultimately did not respond. Over the years, Marwyn, Howland Reed, Arya, Jon, and Dany had bonded over the magic that their families possessed. They had created a guild of sorts, who would no doubt be interested to learn about Jon’s time with Melisandre and Bloodraven.

After Arya’s appointment, Dany looked to the empty seat at the table. _The Dornish seat_. “Any news of the Dornish? I haven’t seen them today,” the Queen inquired.

“They slipped out of King’s Landing after the ceremony, Your Grace,” Ser Davos answered.

“They will likely be offended that the marriage did not occur, though surely they will understand,” Lord Tarly chimed in. “Maybe we could pacify them with a marriage offer? Perhaps to Crown Prince Aemon or Princess Alysanne? I believe Princess Arianne has children suitable for such a match.”

“No,” the Queen answered. Lord Tarly looked to Jon, who shook his head.

“No marriage alliances right now. We have more important things to worry about,” the King began. He then told them all about the past five years, focusing on his plan to fight the Others. Viserys corroborated his account about both wights and walkers. Most of the council (save for Arya and Marwyn) seemed incredulous, but no one dared voice their doubts to the King.

The King discussed his desire to raise the largest army Westeros had ever seen to fight against the hundreds of thousands of wights. But then he turned to his Hand, “My Lord Hand, you have the most important job of all. I want those who cannot fight to leave continental Westeros so that they may be spared from the army of the dead should we fail. We will ferry them to various islands: Bear Island, the Iron Islands, Fair Isle, the Shield Islands, the Arbor, Estermont, Tarth, Driftmark, Claw Isle, the Three Sisters, even Skagos if need be. And I entrust you to go to Dragonstone with Daeron and Lyarra. If we fall, Daeron will be king, and you will be Regent. You can rule from Dragonstone, but if necessary, you may need to journey to Essos.”

Davos nodded, “So the walkers can’t swim?”

“Not that we’re aware of,” Jon answered. He then smiled, “And thank the gods the Children of the Forest broke the arm of Dorne into the Step Stones thousands of years ago. Could you imagine if the walkers could continue on land to Essos?” Jon shook his head. He then continued, “As part of our plan to assemble a united Westerosi army, we will call a Great Council.”

“And when will you do so, Your Grace?” Rodrik asked.

“When our delivery arrives,” Jon said coyly.

**RHAELLA POV**

Rhaella watched both the King and Queen handle the small council with pride. Her daughter never ceased to amaze her. Before his death, she and Jon were always co-rulers, and he insisted she be in small council meetings. After his death, she was understandably devastated. _Love’s impermanence makes it a double-edged sword, after all_. But she was resilient and strong, and her decisiveness in the wake of the King’s murder provided the necessary stability to secure Aemon’s future reign.

While Dany could be incredibly caring to the small folk of Flea Bottom, she could also bring verbal fire when needed to keep the small council or greedy lords in place. Powerful men quickly learned not to underestimate her, including a representative from the Iron Bank. In the wake of Tywin’s Rebellion, the Iron Bank correctly anticipated that the Seven Kingdoms would need loans to rebuild. But their offer made it clear that they were taking advantage of Westeros’s tragedy. The representative made it seem like the offer was the most generous to ever be made, assuming a smile and kind words would reassure the young Queen. But they didn’t realize that she had studied the issue in depth. She politely pointed out the absurdly high interest rate and shorter time to pay off the loan as compared to the recent loans made to Lys and Tyrosh, who had a far worse payment record than the Iron Throne.

 _Surely, you jest_ , Dany smiled. _Please, let us hear the real offer_. The representative’s mask remained on, though a bead of sweat began running down his forehead. The real offer wound up being far more generous to the Iron Throne. Rhaella also remembered the look of awe on Aemon’s face as he watched his mother negotiate. _The future King clearly revered his mother just as much as his father_.

Then there was Jon. When he began telling the small council about the threat from the Others, he became impassioned and had a firmness to his voice. When he spoke that way, everyone listened. She remembered when he became king at age 18. Some thought such a young king would be easily cowed and manipulated, but they quickly learned otherwise.

**15 Years Ago**

“Cersei Lannister, you are hereby charged with conspiracy to murder Jon Arryn,” Jon’s voice emanated with authority despite his age.

After Jon married Dany, the spurned Lannisters and Tyrells began scheming. At first, they planned to marry Willas to Myrcella, and Margaery to Joffrey. Then they tried to bring in the Vale (as the Reach didn’t like the Dornish). The plan was to kill Jon Arryn, have Littlefinger marry Lysa Arryn, then marry Myrcella to Sweetrobin, who’d be easy to control. No doubt Tywin’s fingerprints were all over it, but Cersei had just bragged about her and Littlefinger’s role to one of the King’s servant-spies at Casterly Rock. She claimed that they would finally bring down the dragons, and that Rhaegar would be sorry he spurned her for that sickly Dornishwoman and that wolf bitch.

“This a very serious crime, and we will need _dozens_ of witnesses, and _days_ of testimony to sort out the truth,” Jon explained resolutely. Rhaella noticed the King look at the mountain of a man standing behind Cersei, and then to Cersei herself, who was smirking. _The King knows what Cersei’s plan is and is baiting her_. “Days and days, possibly weeks and weeks, of testimony. After all, I’d hate to convict someone who was truly innocent. And no doubt you yourself will be subjected to _hours_ of grueling cross examination. Though, I _confess_ , if you were to demand a trial by combat, I would be completely powerless to stop you, even if you were truly guilty."

“I confess as well, Your Grace,” Cersei announced confidently. “I did it.” At that moment, Lord Tywin buried his face in his hands.

“You confess to the charges against you, namely that you conspired to kill Jon Arryn?” The King wanted her on the record.

“Guilty,” Cersei’s smirk grew bigger. “But, like you said, it doesn't matter, because I demand a trial by combat, and I name Ser Gregor Clegane as my champion!” The throne room erupted in chatter.

“Silence!” Jon bellowed, and the talking ceased. Jon feigned confusion, “My lady, a trial by combat is only used to determine guilt or innocence. And that was already determined when you confessed to the charges against you. The next step is to determine your sentence, which is completely in my discretion as King.” Cersei’s face dropped at the realization, while Jon’s hardened even further. “And I sentence you to death. Fetch me a block.”

“No, you can’t! Ser Gregor!” Cersei begged. Clegane put his hand on his hilt, but was quickly surrounded by kingsguard and Ghost, causing him to back down

After getting Cersei in position, Jon began, “I, King Jaehaerys of House Targaryen, third of my name, King of the Andals, Rhoynar, and First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, sentence you to die. Do you have any last words?”

“Your mother was a whore!”

“And yet my father still chose her over you,” Jon slashed. And with a dull thud, it was over.

**Present**

Littlefinger’s execution wasn’t nearly as exciting, as there were no brazen last words, though the wait for it did build suspense. The Queen had insisted on a long break after Cersei’s execution in order to give Petyr Baelish time to contemplate his course of action. To her daughter’s credit, there wasn’t a hair out of place on the King’s head when the two returned after about 40 minutes. Littlefinger insisted on a trial by combat before he confessed to any crime, but Ser Gregor refused, as did the next five people Littlefinger asked. _So that was that_.

Unfortunately, Cersei’s death did not slow the rebels' plotting. Eventually, Myrcella married Willas, and Margaery married Renly Baratheon (though some say there was often a guest in their bed). The King was wary, but Dorne and the Vale were still on the sidelines and could possibly be incentivized to maintain their loyalty with the right marriage alliance. Plus, they still had the North (and likely the Riverlands) on their side, and of course, dragons.

Wylis Manderly accentuated his last sentence and brought Rhaella out of her thoughts. She looked at her grandson, legs crossed with a finger resting on his temple, as he listened with narrowed eyes and furrowed brow. _He always made sure to take in every word. It was like he never left_.

**DANY POV**

That night, she wanted to surprise him. She was still a little tender, but it would be worth it to see his face. Her new Lysene handmaiden had told her about the grooming habits of some women in Essos and even procured the wax for her.

When Jon walked in, she was seated with her legs crossed, wearing nothing but a silk robe. “My King,” she beckoned him with her finger.

“My Queen,” he smiled as he sauntered towards her. When she uncrossed her legs, he stopped in his tracks, before sinking to his knees with desire.

“Not so fast, my eager nephew. You must _earn_ my bare cunt. _If_ you lavish every inch of me with kisses, then I _might_ allow you to play with my cunt. Deal?”

The King of the Seven Kingdoms looked like a child on his nameday, and simply nodded dumbly. He took his time, starting at her feet, working his way up her legs. Then he went to her fingertips and made his way up her arms.

“Does that include elbows?”

“Everything, nephew,” she tried to maintain her sensual tone.

“Even armpits?”

 _I’m going to kill him_. “If you ask one more question, you’re sleeping alone tonight,” she fumed.

“If you insist,” Jon began vibrating his lips under her arms.

“Gods, you ruin everything!”

“Everything?” Jon chuckled, and then began kissing her neck and collar.

“Well, maybe not _everything_ ,” she conceded, beginning to get aroused again.

When he finished, she allowed him to get close to her bareness, but still forbade him to touch it. She enjoyed the feel of his breath, alternating between warm and cool. She wanted to see how long he could last.

“You said if I kissed every inch of you, I could have your bare cunt,” Jon grumbled.

“Did I? Well, I changed my mind,” Dany said nonchalantly. She tried to ignore the sneer that broke across his face. She knew what was coming next.

“Stop! Stop! Jon, Stop! No! Stop!” she screamed as she tried to push him off. He pinned her arms down with ease. Truthfully, she didn’t really want him to stop. She enjoyed him like this. She enjoyed pushing him to the edge, and even the times he crossed over. If she really wanted him to stop, she would have said “Double D,” which was their special word for stop. It was the perfect phrase because saying it aloud made them both feel like they were taking a cold bath. When she had asked Jon where he had come up with the idea for their special word, he replied simply, _If you want to know how to have fun in the dark, ask a bat_.

“You want me to stop?” Jon growled.

“Yes, please,”

“Make me,” Jon dared.

Dany struggled some more, to no avail, then started to bite his neck, which quickly morphed into a lick up the side of his face and then all over his ear. She had accepted her fate.

“I will have your bare cunt whenever I want. Is that understood?”

“Yes,” Dany whimpered.

“And you will keep it bare for me. I get to decide how your cunt looks from now on. Got it?”

“Fuck, Jon. Yes!” Jon had picked up the pace, and she was so overwhelmed by his power that she would have given in to any demand at that point.

After he was done ravishing her, they lied in bed smirking at one another. “You have the best cunt,” Jon said abruptly. _Well, he was not a poet, but he made up for it in sincerity_.

“How would you know? You’ve only been with me.”

“Because I just know,” Jon looked down. “And the best breasts. They’re the perfect size, shape, color, everything.”

“You said the same thing on our wedding night 18 years ago, and I’ve changed since then,” Dany raised her brow. Having four children changed her body, but Jon always kissed every new stretch mark, saying that she should be as proud of them as he was because she earned them in battle. _Why then was he so worried about his own scars?_

“Your body may have changed, but apparently so have my tastes,” Jon smiled.

Dany fought to suppress a small grin, and then an even bigger one. “Well, I don’t like your cock.”

Jon looked hurt, “Why not?”

“Because it’s not inside me right now,” she wiggled her eyebrows.

“Gods, and with jokes like that you don’t deserve to be graced with my manhood,” Jon pretended to be annoyed.

“Aye, Jon, you’re right.”

Jon knew he had lost. “Fine, I’ll make an exception just this once.”

“Isn’t that what you said last time?”

“Shush woman,” and they both laughed.

A few days later, Dany was in Alys’s room braiding her daughter’s lovely silver hair. She decided it was time to finally broach the subject. “So, I’ve noticed that Mist and Night are always snuggling. They’re hard to miss, like a giant ball of grey and black.”

Alys gave a nervous chuckle, “Our direwolves are fond of one another. They’ve always been close.”

“But recently they’ve become practically inseparable . . . Don’t direwolves pick up on the feelings of their owners?” She was met with silence. “Alys, it’s alright. Me, your father, and Rhaella have known about you and Aemon for a while now.” Alys’s eyes widened but she still said nothing. “And your father and I have talked about it, and we support whatever you two decide. After all, we are the last people who should criticize you and Aemon.”

At that, Alys finally chuckled. “We were so worried that you’d be disappointed. I know as Crown Prince, Aemon’s hand is a valuable bargaining chip for alliances, and I know you and father likely had plans for me as well. We want to do our part to ensure peace for the realm, but it has been hard to ignore our feelings for one another,” she looked down and her cheeks reddened.

Dany smiled, “I completely understand. If things were different, your father and I might insist on political marriages, but now that he is back, and we still have three dragons, we are stronger than ever. So, we may actually be able to afford to focus on our happiness for once.”

Alys beamed at her mother. Dany tugged on Alys’s hair, “A little advice, though . . . you can get him to do anything if you convince him that it was his idea all along.”

“Mother! That is your _own_ son,” Alys pretended to scold.

“I know, but you’re my _own_ daughter, and your life will go much more smoothly if you learn these things,” they both giggled.

**JON POV**

It had gotten chillier, especially in the mornings, so Jon and Aemon were wearing extra layers as they sparred. “So, tell me about Alys,” Jon smirked as he parried a blow.

“What about Alys?” Aemon played dumb, though his form became noticeably sloppier.

Jon wasn’t letting his son off that easily. “You can’t even say her name without grinning like a jackass.”

Aemon chuckled, “Aye, guilty.” The two crossed swords a few more times.

“Do you two have any long-term plans, or were you just going to meet in secret for the rest of your lives?”

Jon’s bluntness allowed him to score a hit, though Aemon quickly recovered. “We wanted to ask your permission. I’ve just been trying to work up the courage.”

“You know what happened when your mother and I married for love?”

“Well you were betrothed, and we’re not,” Aemon began attacking again.

“Very good, you’ve thought about this.”

“A few times,” Aemon laughed, and began backing up to better defend against Jon’s slices.

“Though there is always a risk even when no betrothals have been made,” Jon acknowledged. “However, at this time, your mother and I believe that your happiness outweighs that risk.”

Aemon stopped, “Really?”

Jon put his sword down as well. “Yes. And you’ll make an honest woman out of her, gods only know what you two have been up to,” Jon raised his brow.

Aemon blushed and looked at his feet. _Well, that answers that question_.

“Have you had your first fight yet?” Jon inquired.

“We’ve had some small disagreements,” Aemon admitted.

Jon put his arm around his son and the two walked back to the training bench and sat down. “So, the trick is to pick your battles. Alys can be opinionated, so let her have her way with the things that aren’t as important to you, so that when something is important to you, she’ll be more willing to budge.”

“Aye. Is that what you do with mother?”

“Me and your mother _never_ fight,” Jon grinned, and they both started laughing.

“It’s an interesting idea, though I’m not sure it can be applied to choosing a King of the Seven Kingdoms,” Jon cautioned. He and Alys were talking about how the Night’s Watch elect their Lord Commander while breaking their fast, and Alys had mentioned other examples of elections, such as the Volantene triarchs.

“Obviously, it wouldn’t be feasible to have _all_ the people vote, but having a Great Council choose every ruler seems manageable,” she suggested.

“Maybe, but wouldn’t that lead to constant infighting among the royals who could potentially be chosen? We already have enough rebellions and civil wars as it is, this would seem to encourage them every time a king dies, if not even more frequently assuming you’re also advocating for the Great Council’s power to _remove_ kings?”

“I am,” she sighed and steeled herself. “King Aerys should have been removed years before Robert’s Rebellion. Kings should have to follow the law like everyone else. Once a king starts to flagrantly violate the most sacred tenets of the law, the Great Council should step in and remove him. Allowing them that power would prevent wars.”

“So, you’re saying the Law should be king?” Jon raised a brow.

“Yes, and Aemon agrees with me,” she raised her chin in slight defiance.

“Oh, I’ve no doubt you two are full of ideas. The question is, is Westeros ready for them?”

“Don’t worry, we won’t be too radical, we aren’t like you and mother,” she giggled.

Jon laughed, “That’s why I love our discussions, because I always win.” Alys shot him a skeptical look. Jon explained, “You see, when I win the debate, I win, and even when I lose the debate, I win, because it means that I have a brilliant daughter who will make a wonderful Queen and I can die knowing that the realm is in good hands.”

Alys rolled her eyes, “So you admit defeat then?”

“Never!” Jon slammed his fist on the table, causing the plate to rise, as they both laughed.

Dany walked in with a determined look on her face. “Good morning, mother,” Alys beamed.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt, but a thought occurred to me last night and I couldn’t sleep,” she said solemnly.

“I was wondering why you weren’t in bed when I woke up, usually I’m always the first to wake,” Jon smiled, though his smile faded when he saw that it was not returned by his wife. _Something was clearly weighing heavily on her mind_. “What’s wrong, love?”

Dany looked him in the eye and got down on one knee, grasping his hand. “I know that I never technically married Quentyn, but I want to get rid of the taint of my betrothal to him. I want to reaffirm my love for you by marrying you again, this time in the sight of the old gods under the heart tree in the Godswood. We have so many fond memories there, and it has always been our sacred place,” she smiled, as her eyes became glassy. She took a deep breath and exhaled. “So, King Jaehaerys of House Targaryen, will you marry me, _again_?”

Jon shot up from his chair, “Yes! Yes! Of course! Gods, I’d be honored to marry you again!” Jon picked her up and hugged her tight, twisting her in the air. “Gods I love you so much! I don’t deserve you! I don’t deserve you, my love,” tears fell from his eyes as he began to laugh. “You always have the best ideas! I can’t believe I didn’t think of it.”

“Well, you thought of it the first time, so I figured I needed to return the favor,” Dany glowed.

They held each other tight, sniffling, until they heard a squeal. They looked to see Alys with her hands over her mouth and tears in her eyes. “I can’t wait to tell Aemon!”

“Of course,” Jon and Dany said at the same time.

**DANY POV**

Today in the Dragonpit they were meeting with the Great Council to tell them about the Long Night. The fact that it had gotten considerably chillier would hopefully bolster their claims, though many would remain skeptical. _But my King has a plan for dealing with their doubts_ , Dany smirked. She glanced at the Starks, Tullys, Arryns, and Baratheons. She also saw the Hightowers and Crakehalls (the new Lords Paramount of the Reach and Westerlands, respectively). Even the Greyjoys were there, though they no doubt would not be as concerned given their remoteness from continental Westeros. But it was the Martells that worried her the most. It was her first time seeing them since Jon’s return, and they were likely still bitter. 

She looked at her husband. _He looks so nervous_. She squeezed his hand, and he tried to force a smile. _Bless him, he could never make it as a mummer, either_. She looked at the second ring now gracing his finger. He had vowed that it symbolized his second life, and that he’d make it count for something. _As if there was ever any doubt about that_.

Her thoughts were broken by the arrival of a giant crate. Jon left his seat and went over to the four people accompanying it. The white-bearded man said something and began a deep belly-laugh, which Jon joined in as the two embraced one another. _That must be Tormund_. Jon next spoke with a heavy-set younger man who lacked Tormund’s personality. _That must be Sam_. Jon had grown close to him during his months at Castle Black, and now she understood why Jon always seemed to glare at Randyll Tarly during small council meetings. Then Jon stepped in front of a full-figured blonde woman. She looked about our age. _Is this Val? I always thought she’d be Tormund’s age_. Their hug wasn’t as enthusiastic as Tormund’s, but Dany didn’t fail to notice that Val left her hand on Jon’s shoulder while they spoke. _He’ll never be yours, he’s just too polite to tell you off_. Lastly, there was the red priestess, Melisandre. _She was possibly even more beautiful than Val_. Dany had mixed emotions whenever she thought of Melisandre. On the one hand, she was incredibly grateful that Melisandre had miraculously given Jon back to her and her children. However, the fact that it was _Melisandre_ who had resurrected Jon, nursed him back to health, and seen him at his most vulnerable, filled Dany with envy.

Jon announced that the meeting would commence in five minutes and sauntered back to her, smiling. “You’ll have to introduce me to your friends,” Dany prodded.

“They’ll love to meet you,” Jon stated sincerely. “Honestly, they already feel like they know you with how much I talk about you.”

Dany wasn’t quite mollified. “I always thought that Val was Tormund’s age. You didn’t tell me she was young and beautiful,” Dany pretended to make an offhand remark.

Jon raised his brow, “I told her that you had ruined me for other women. Her beauty is for others to enjoy, I have more than enough with you.”

Dany beamed inwardly, but her mask was still on. “And Melisandre practically looks like a freshly flowered maiden. I’m not sure how she had enough knowledge and experience to resurrect you.”

“Melisandre is over 300 years old. See that choker she wears? It has a ruby that changes her appearance into that of a young woman. The second she took it off her true appearance would be revealed, and she’d likely die,” Jon spoke matter-of-factly. “Plus, I was never _betrothed_ to either of them.” The bitterness in his voice surprised her. _We still have a lot we need to work through_.

Dany was going to respond, but a voice interrupted her. “Look at the craven! He’s somehow managed to get even fatter at the Wall! Of course, they couldn’t make a ranger or builder out of him, so they let him be a maester since he wasn’t good for anything else.” _Gods, how could a father hate his son so much_? Dany shook her head. In a split-second Jon was standing face-to-face with Randyll Tarly, who was shocked and confused and could not even meet the King’s eye. No one said a word and just watched as Jon stared daggers at his Master of Laws, his nose a hair’s breadth from Lord Tarly’s cheek.

After a minute, Jon growled, “Let me tell you about Samwell Tarly, because it is _obvious_ that you do not know him.” Jon spoke quietly, but he was clearly seething. “He killed a walker with a dragonglass dagger, becoming, as far as I know, the first person in thousands of years to do so. He also protected a wildling woman and her baby by burning a wight to death. He then scoured the library at Castle Black and discovered a hidden deposit of dragonglass that we can mine, something we desperately need to win the war. Does that sound like a craven to you, Lord Tarly?” Lord Tarly did not answer. “Answer me!” Jon yelled, his face red and the veins of his neck visible.

“No,” Lord Tarly conceded.

“And when your son was training to become a maester at the citadel, he learned of a man infected with greyscale. No maester would even attempt to treat him, as they feared contracting the disease. And they forbade Sam to do so as well. But Sam, who was only an acolyte, treated the man in secret, risking both his position at the Citadel, and his life,” Jon paused. “And he cured that man. He _cured_ him,” Jon continued, staring at Lord Tarly. “Does that sound like a craven, Lord Tarly?”

“No,” Randyll all but whimpered.

Jon wasn’t finished, “Do not be mistaken. If we somehow manage to survive what is coming, hundreds of years from now children will read stories about the Long Night and the War for the Dawn. And when they do, they’ll learn the name Tarly. They’ll learn it very well,” Jon paused. “But it will not be _your_ name that they learn,” Jon turned sharply and walked back to his seat.

“I didn’t think it was possible to be executed with words,” Aemon whispered to Alys. “Looks like the wight isn’t the only dead man walking.”

Jon looked to Sam and formed his fingers into a wolf, which Sam returned with a sad smile. Jon would always make a wolf sign to his children to signify that they were part of his pack and that he’d always have their back, no matter what.

The confrontation with Lord Tarly was probably a blessing in disguise, as it set the tone for the meeting by making it clear that the King was not to be trifled with. Jon shared about his experience with walkers and wights at Hardhome. Tormund shared about having to kill his own son, Torwynd, when he came back as a wight. Sam shared about his own killing of walkers and wights, and even Viserys shared his experiences.

“But we knew our words wouldn’t be enough, so we brought proof.” Jon walked over to the crate, and looked to the crowd, squinting his eyes. “Tormund, help me move it to the left a bit. Good. Tormund, can you please reveal what’s inside?”

Tormund opened the door of the crate and nothing happened. After a few seconds, there were some nervous chuckles. People soon began muttering to themselves, _no doubt claiming that the whole thing was a hoax_. But then there was a shriek and a creature ran straight at Lord Tarly, who nearly fell out of his chair. The wight was stopped by a chain but continued struggling to kill those closest to him.

Jon showed that a wight cannot be killed with a normal sword, and Marwyn was quite fascinated as he held the severed arm that was still moving as if it were still attached to the body. Jon then took a torch to the wight, the fire finally killing it for good. Most made the obvious connection, but Jon made sure to emphasize it anyways. He pointed at her, “Nineteen years ago your Queen brought dragons back for the first time in over a hundred years. She is the reason we have _any_ chance against this. Had she not done so, we would have to abandon Westeros for good and flee to Essos. But because of her, we actually have a chance to reclaim our home.” Jon then explained his plan to use the three dragons to thin the ranks of the wights, while a smaller force armed with Valyrian steel and dragonglass would fight the Others who were immune to fire. The bulk of the army would use torches and other weapons to fend off the wights as best they could, though the strategy was to take out the Others as quickly as possible, as that would kill the remaining wights as well.

“To that end, we need every soldier we can get. There are hundreds of thousands of wights, both human and animal, and three dragons won’t be able to kill them all. And they aren’t a normal army, which dwindles with every death. For every soldier of ours they kill, their army grows. To have a chance, we’ll need to assemble the largest army Westeros has ever seen. We’re probably still going to lose. But because of the efforts of your Queen, Maester Tarly, and others, we’ll at least give the fuckers a fight.”

“Why should we contribute men? The Others are in the North, let the Northerners handle them. We have suffered enough as it is,” the implication of Prince Oberyn’s words were plain.

“Prince Oberyn,” she responded before Jon had a chance. Everyone turned to her, surprised, as it was the first time she’d spoken up during the meeting. “Any house that refuses to contribute soldiers will face one of two possibilities: either the Others will win, in which case they will become wights, even as far south as Dorne, or the King’s army will win, in which case their house and memory will be utterly wiped from the face of the earth. If you’re thinking about refusing, you better pray the Others win, as they’ll be far more merciful than we will.” After that, everyone agreed to contribute soldiers, even the Dornish houses.

The meeting went as well as could be expected. _Jon and I deserve a reward_. She approached her husband’s back while he was still lingering in the pit and gently tugged his hair. “You told Val that I ruined you for other women? Well, I want to ruin you even more tonight,” she purred in his ear. She didn’t give him a chance to reply before she turned and walked away.

**JON POV**

Months had passed, and it had gotten colder, snowing as far south as Dorne. It also stayed dark, as if the sun never rose. The weather had caused everyone’s thoughts to turn to the inevitable war ahead, and Jon’s family was not immune.

Dany and Jon were sitting on Lyarra’s bed telling her goodnight. Jon had initially avoided Old Nan’s bedtime stories when he first came back, but Lyarra was even more curious, especially since Jon now had firsthand knowledge of the subject matter. So, he’d tell her of the giants, mammoths, snow bears, and shadowcats he’d seen north of the Wall, and of the Freefolk and Night’s Watch. But tonight, she looked troubled.

“What if you’re not the promised prince?” she asked abruptly.

“Who said I was the promised prince?”

“Everyone says that, but it doesn’t make sense. Wasn’t he supposed to have a Nissa Nissa?” 

Jon took a deep breath. “Melisandre, the red priestess that I told you about, believes I am. But truthfully, the only thing she saw in her flames was a vision of me with a red sword killing the Others. The rest is just her guess. So, whether I’m the actual promised prince, or whether Rhaegar was and Lyanna was his Nissa Nissa, which would make me Lightbringer,” Jon opened his eyes wide and took an exaggerated breath, “or whether Daenerys is the promised princess who woke dragons from stone, no one really knows.” Jon’s animated explanation brought a giggle from his youngest daughter.

Dany smiled, then added, “Here’s what I _do_ know. As King and Queen, we have a duty to protect the realm. So, we will do everything we can to defeat the Others. That’s what’s important, not _who_ the promised prince is.”

Jon shrugged, “Aye, and if the promised prince wants to show up and help out at some point, all the better.” Lyarra grinned.

The next day, Jon was visiting Lyannaxes when he heard footsteps behind him and felt a tug on his cloak. “I want to ride a dragon,” a young voice demanded.

Jon turned to his silver-haired son. “You’re a little big to ride on my shoulders like we used to,” he smiled as Daeron’s face contorted in annoyance.

“No, father, an actual dragon. Can you take me for a ride on Lyannaxes, please?”

“Aye, you win. The view won’t be as good because it’s so dark, but I think I might be able to find a little light.”

“Woohoo!!!” Daeron yelled as they flew over Blackwater Bay, lighting it up with dragon fire.

Jon had Lyannaxes land on a small, snowy island in the middle of the Bay. It had been a while since he and Daeron had spent time alone. Jon tried to talk about Daeron’s training, favorite foods, even his dark gray direwolf, Smoke, but his son wasn’t interested.

“Do you think a lot of people will die? That’s what I’ve heard, anyways.”

Jon sighed, “I’m not sure, but there will likely be some deaths, yes.” He knew the next question was coming.

“What if you die, _again_?” Daeron started crying. Jon hugged him tightly, kissing the top of his head.

“I doubt the gods went through the trouble of bringing me back, just to kill me off again,” Jon tried to reassure his son. "Plus, we’ll have three dragons and six direwolves. I bet the Others are afraid of us, actually.”

Daeron sniffed, “You think so?”

“Aye. And if they’re not, they’re stupid.”

Daeron laughed, “I’m glad you’re home.”

“Me too, son.”

Several days later, the three heads of the dragon were lying in bed, getting ready to read all the letters Rhaegar wrote to Maester Aemon over the years. Jon was in the middle, first letter in hand, with Rhaella and Dany on either side. Rhaella kissed Jon’s cheek and squeezed his lower one before laying her arm over his body.

“Grandmother! I’m going to tell Davos how naughty you’re being,” Jon feigned outrage.

Rhaella smirked and hugged him tightly, “He knew what he was marrying into.”

Dany pinched his nipple and pretended to pout, “Poor Jon, always being assaulted by beautiful Valyrian women.”

“You know, they’re _my_ letters, and I don’t have to share them with either of you unless you behave,” Jon admonished lightheartedly.

Reading the letters was as emotional as it was eye-opening. It was like hearing from a ghost whose words about long-forgotten memories brought equal parts laughter and tears, smiles and sadness. But something became crystal-clear to the three of them by the time they finished: Rhaegar’s description of the Others that haunted his dreams was eerily similar to what Jon had seen north of the Wall. When he finished reading, the three of them didn’t say a word. They had curled up together to read these letters to temporarily forget about the looming Long Night. Instead, the letters were a stark reminder of the inescapable, the inevitable. And the three of them were going to be at the center of it.

**Excerpt from “A Song of Ice and Fire,” by Grand Maester Samwell Tarly, 330 AC.**

King Jaehaerys and Queen Daenerys spent the year after the King’s return assembling the largest army Westeros had ever seen. Princess Alysanne and Prince Aemon even designed a new sigil to represent the united army of Westeros, consisting of a setting sun to represent the Sunset Kingdoms, as they were known in Essos. However, it also represented the rising son of the new War for the Dawn. Though the Reach and Westerlands lost a substantial portion of their fighting-aged men during Tywin’s Rebellion, they were still represented among the ranks. The King and Queen were adamant that all houses contribute soldiers. While a few houses were initially hesitant to do so, the Queen was able to convince them otherwise.

The Others brought down the Wall with the Horn of Winter. It was for the best, since the dragons were not capable of fighting beyond the Wall. The King decided that they’d make their stand at Winterfell. The red priestess who had resurrected the King claimed that the name was prophetic. But the King also knew that they had to meet the army of the dead early on, or risk their ranks swelling with every death as they marched south.

The King, wielding Dark Sister, assembled a small group of soldiers armed with Valyrian steel to face the Others. Among them were Robb Stark armed with Ice, Viserys Targaryen with Blackfyre, Dacey Mormont with Longclaw, Dickon Tarly with Heartsbane, Lyn Corbray with Lady Forlorn, Harras Harlaw with Nightfall, and Humfrey Hightower with Vigilance. They were joined by a far larger group that fought with dragonglass weapons, including Tormund Giantsbane, a wildling who was forced to kill his own son when he rose as a wight.

Queen Daenerys and Dowager Queen Rhaella circled the skies with Rhaegal and Viserion, respectively, killing wights by the thousands, both human and animal. It is rumored that giant ice spiders were among their casualties. Lyannaxes also contributed to the destruction of wights, controlled from the ground by the King.

Once the army of wights began to thin, a line of Others approached the Valyrian steel-armed soldiers. The two groups stared at one another in silence while the dragons continued purging all around them, protecting those facing the Others. Then the King shouted, “I am Stark!” and the Others rushed him, swords drawn. Once the fighting began, Lyannaxes became lost for a short time, flying aimlessly. However, the Queen managed to get Lyannaxes under control using only her arm to give signals, and directed her back to the task at hand. As far as learned men know, this is the first time a single person has fully controlled two dragons at the same time. How the Queen was able to do this is still debated, but with the three dragons working in tandem again, they were able to prevent the wights from interfering with the King’s ground assault on the Others. And any wights that did manage to slip through were easily handled by the six direwolves patrolling the King's perimeter.

After a time, the King’s soldiers began to fall, though they took more than a few Others with them. The fallen were promptly resurrected again as wights by the Others, forcing the King’s soldiers to fight against those who were once their friends. Rhaella left the skies to defend her son when she noticed a group of Others had surrounded him. The dragon fire dispersed them long enough to save Viserys, though Rhaella’s landing left her vulnerable and ultimately led to her death. She died in her son’s arms. Enraged, Viserys attacked the Others with a fury none had seen, showing that even the weakest of dragons can be formidable. He was eventually killed as well, though not before taking several walkers with him.

Watching the tide turn against the living from the walls of Winterfell, Prince Aemon and Princess Alysanne rushed to help. Alysanne took control of Viserion and continued the air assault on the remaining wights, while Aemon picked up the fallen Blackfyre and joined his father. A new line of walkers reinforced the dwindling initial line, though unfortunately the only reinforcement the King’s soldiers had was Aemon, Arya, and Brienne of Tarth, the latter two armed with dragonglass weapons. The bulk of the Westerosi army was still busy fighting the wights the dragons had not yet incinerated with flaming weapons from a spell cast by the red priestess, Melisandre.

Things reached a low point for the King’s soldiers when the King himself became surrounded by walkers. Ghost managed to save his life, losing his own in the process. Nymeria did the same for Arya. In the confusion Robb lost Ice, and Jon gave him Dark Sister, picking up Ice himself just in time to block a blow to his head. With Ghost no longer protecting his back, the King was vulnerable, and soon became bloodied with fresh wounds, though he still refused to yield.

But then a curious thing happened. His sword began to glow red hot, forcing his own men to step away because of the heat, though the King seemed unaffected. But the effect his sword had on the Others was the most interesting of all. They immediately fled from before the King. Jaehaerys had no horses to chase them down, but he did have direwolves. So he mounted Princess Alysanne’s direwolf, Mist, and pursued the fleeing Others. Others with Stark blood, Prince Aemon, Robb, and Arya, followed his lead. They cut down the retreating walkers with ease until not a single one was left. When the last walker shattered, the remaining thousands of wights fell to the ground in unison, finally at rest.

Lord Commander Tollett later quipped, “The King riding on the back of a direwolf, slaying creatures from a Northern fairytale with the ancestral sword of Winterfell, is the most Stark thing that has ever happened—and it was done by a _Targaryen_.”

Of course, the King was only able to do this because the dragons kept the wights from him. And much like the Second Field of Fire, the person with the most kills in the new Battle for the Dawn was Queen Daenerys, who singlehandedly commanded two dragons, including the biggest, Rhaegal.

During the celebration afterwards, Melisandre summed up everyone’s feelings when she said, “300 years ago a three-headed dragon conquered Westeros; today, a three-headed dragon saved it. To House Targaryen!”

Afterwards, the King and Queen commissioned just one work to celebrate, a simple statue of a man and woman. The man held a sword and hammer, the woman a spade and sewing needles, representing the sacrifices made by all to both survive the Long Night, and to rebuild. When asked why they didn’t commission any statues of the three heads of the dragon, or the princess who was promised (as some had taken to calling the Queen), or even the prince who was promised, the Queen replied, “because it wasn’t only me, and it wasn’t only Jon.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Dany help rebuild in the wake of the Long Night and up their role-playing game.

**JON POV**

A feeling of warmth emanated from his middle, causing Jon to slowly move his hips in response. When he heard a slurping sound, he opened his eyes to find his Queen staring at him. Jon smiled lazily, grateful for his wife.

“Gods, Dany,” Jon started staggering his breaths and focusing on the sensation. He felt an overwhelming desire to touch her, so he grabbed her hair, and then brushed his thumb lightly across her cheek. She didn’t smile, but instead continued focusing on his face, analyzing his response to every suck and swish, scrape and lick. When she began assaulting his tip with her tongue, he bucked his hips as her soft sucking noises complimented the sound of morning rain. When he came a few moments later, not a drop escaped her mouth. But she didn’t release him. She kept sucking and twirling her tongue until . . . “Dany, Dany! DANY! FUCK!” She finally let him go as his mouth opened and his fingers tensed.

“And now you’re awake,” Dany smiled. “Which is good, because you need to get up and,” Dany stopped midsentence and pointed to the window.

“Reign?” Jon guessed. Dany grinned and nodded her head repeatedly. Jon sighed, “That deserves a few swats, come here,” Jon began to wrestle her over his lap, hiking her nightgown up and revealing her bare bottom. Unless she was on her moonblood, Dany almost never wore small clothes to bed, her sign that she was available if Jon was willing. Last night he was up late, and though he was going to blame it on Sam and Davos again, by the time he got in bed she had already fallen asleep. _That explains why she has so much energy this morning_. She struggled at first through her laughter, kicking her legs and wiggling. But after a few smacks she accepted her fate and slightly spread her legs.

“Dany, you’re not getting a reward. You must be punished for making such a horrible pun,” Jon’s face was unmovable ice.

“Well, the jokes on you because I enjoy your spankings. So, you’re really just encouraging my naughty behavior,” Dany countered.

“Actually, I quite enjoy spanking you, so maybe I secretly wish to encourage your naughtiness.” Dany turned to look at him, putting her hand over her mouth in feigned shock. The ice melted as Jon began giggling and tickling his naughty wife. “So, how were you planning to explain to Quentyn the tiny ‘JT’ at the bottom of your arse cheek?” Jon japed.

“Can we not talk about Quentyn while I’m naked and lying across your lap, please?” Only Dany could deliver such a sharp rebuke from such a vulnerable position. “But to answer your question, probably the same way you explained to the red priestess the tiny ‘DT’ on yours. And I know she saw you naked. I’ve no doubt it was ‘necessary’ to work her miracle,” Dany rolled her eyes, though she carefully watched Jon’s reaction. Jon did not answer, likely confirming her suspicion. Dany huffed, “I actually was just going to make sure he never saw it. And if he ever tried to take me like a wolf, I’d kill him,” Dany scowled.

“So, only I can do that?” Jon asked cheekily.

Dany managed to hold her scowl for a few seconds longer before it faded away into a soft, contented smile. “Only Jon,” she assured.

When he got up to dress he felt a sharp pain across his backside that made him cover his arse with his hands.

“That’s how you do it, by the way,” the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms mocked him then flitted away.

Jon smirked. Dany made sure that Jon had moments of levity throughout the day to level out his natural broodiness which had only gotten worse in the aftermath of the Long Night. Thousands had died, among them Mance, Rickon, Melisandre, Viserys, and even Val. He remembered sharing memories about her to a group of Freefolk the day after the battle.

**6 Months Ago**

“She was an amazing woman. Her, Dalla, and Mance always put the needs of the Freefolk above their own,” Jon spoke solemnly.

“If she was so great, why didn’t you let her steal ya?” a skinny, redhaired woman questioned.

“She never tried.”

“You know nothing, Your Grace,” she challenged.

Jon laughed, “Well, I was already stolen.” The surrounding Freefolk chuckled as well, as they had become well-acquainted with the Dragon Queen.

“Val never shied from a challenge,” the woman countered to a chorus of “ayes.” “But it doesn’t matter now. Thanks for what you did for our people. We still have a people because of you. There are still giants, and children of the forest, because of you.”

“Because of us,” Jon corrected.

She peered at him and tilted her face, “Aye. There’s a cave, north of the Wall, with a waterfall and a pool. You should see it. It—”

“A cave?” Jon felt arms reach around him and hug him tightly. “That sounds exciting,” Dany looked at Jon and kissed him, lingering for a few seconds on his cheek.

“Aye, I know you’d love it,” Jon smiled at his wife, and then turned to the spearwife. “Dany is quite adventurous.”

“Hmm? I guess I am,” she admitted and slapped Jon’s backside, causing him to rise momentarily.

Jon grinned to hide his embarrassment, “But unfortunately, dragons can’t travel beyond the Wall.” He turned back to his wife, “Though now that a portion of the Wall has fallen, maybe the magic is gone and we can take Rhaegal and Lyannaxes there?”

Dany took a deep breath and hummed, smiling at her husband, “I’d like that.” She glanced at the woman again, “It was nice to meet you,” and raised her brow.

“Ygritte,” the redhaired woman said flatly.

“Ygritte,” Dany smiled her queenly smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“I bet a thousand golden dragons she’s scowling at me now,” Dany wagered as they walked away arm-in-arm.

Jon glanced back, “What are you going to spend it on?” They both laughed.

**Present**

Of all the deaths, there was one that truly haunted him. He studied himself in the looking glass, trying to find a piece of her face in his own. His shoulders slumped and he cast his eyes from the mirror when he failed. At least he could always see her in Dany and Alys, his Valyrian beauties. And of course, she was always there waiting for him in his memories.

**1 Year Ago**

The three of them were lying in bed, lost in thought. They had read the last of Rhaegar’s letters to Maester Aemon a while ago, yet none of them dared to speak, because then it would become real.

“I just want to thank you both,” his grandmother suddenly broke the silence. “You have no idea what you two have meant to me. I would have been lost without you.” Jon and Dany both smiled at her and squeezed her hand. “I’m so proud of the rulers you’ve become, and more importantly, the parents. I daresay, the first King Jaehaerys could’ve learned a thing or two from both of you about raising children. Our house, our legacy, is in great hands,” Rhaella’s voice choked with emotion.

“Well, we learn from the best,” Dany insisted sincerely.

Rhaella was quiet for a few moments. “If for some reason I can’t be there for Aemon and Alys’s wedding—”

“Stop mother,” Dany interrupted.

“No, listen,” Rhaella responded sharply, causing Dany to revert from a queen to a little girl at the rebuke. “When Ser Bonifer crowned me the Queen of Love and Beauty, it was one of the best moments of my life, just behind my kids and grandkids being born. That memory helped me stay strong when things got really bad with Aerys. It reminded me that life was full of surprises and small triumphs, which no one can ever take away from you, no matter how difficult things become. I want Alys to know that feeling. There probably won’t be a tournament any time soon, but she can know that feeling at her wedding. I want Aemon to surprise Alys by crowning her with a crown of winter roses. After all, I know she wanted to incorporate them into the wedding in honor of Lyanna. If I can’t be there in person to give my blessing to their union, I want that to serve as my blessing.”

Jon and Dany didn’t say a word. He moved so that Rhaella could be in the middle while they all cuddled. Dany nuzzled Rhaella’s nose, while Jon rubbed her back. “You always gave the best massages,” his grandmother confessed, as they giggled at the memory of Rhaella’s nameday all those years ago.

**Present**

Jon had cried during the wedding when Aemon surprised Alys by crowning her with winter roses. He cried for the grandmother he had just lost, and the mother he never knew. He cried for the look of sheer joy that crossed the faces of his eldest who no longer had to hide their love. And he cried because Alys’s crowning signaled the end of a war that had consumed his life for the last five years. Dany held him. He had only cried a handful of times in his life, but Dany still knew just what to do, like she always did. Before the war, he would’ve worried that his tears would be seen as weakness, emboldening those who would oppose him. But now, he simply didn’t care. _I've earned the right to shed tears_.

The King was anxious as he made his way to a packed throne room. He viewed the end of the war as a new beginning, so he had asked for renewed oaths of fealty, though he and Dany would also be giving oaths of their own to make a proper contract. But the event he was most nervous about was the dedication of the first permanent Great Council.

There were two main reasons for the permanent Great Council. First, they wanted to prevent another mad king-rebellion that could spell their family's end and devastate the Seven Kingdoms. They knew that, even if they were good rulers, and Aemon and Alys after them, eventually there’d be some great-great-grandson that would be a little shit and fuck everything up. So, they would set up a system that would bend not break in response to a bad king by allowing the Great Council to remove a dangerous monarch by unanimous consent and replace him with another member of the royal family. Of course, they worried about giving over so much power to a body of lords, who likely would not be satisfied and would continue to want more authority. But they ultimately decided that the risk was worth it.

However, the Great Council’s main task would be to suggest laws to the King and Queen. They would even be able to enact laws themselves without the King’s consent with a unanimous vote. It was logical that they would draft many of the laws since each member would represent a region of Westeros and, at least in theory, act in accordance with the wishes of their region. It was all part of Jon and Dany’s idea that, just as everyone had a role in protecting Westeros from the Long Night, so too everyone had a role in making it prosper afterwards.

To that end, he would also announce an increase in his appointed judges. Early in his reign, he noticed that he and his councilors couldn’t handle the volume of disputes, and he was less than impressed with some of the lords’ rulings when they allegedly dispensed the “King’s justice.” So, he had asked the Citadel to start offering novices and acolytes the chance to study law and become judges (as opposed to maesters) who would be available to handle disputes in the name of the King throughout the Seven Kingdoms. Though it took several years for the first group of judges to adequately train, once they began, it didn’t take long before he started receiving positive reports. And to further keep them accountable, he insisted that the judges write down their reasons for every ruling and send them to be reviewed by the King, Hand, and Master of Laws. However, today he was not only announcing an increase in the number of judges, but also a new records system for the judges’ written rulings. Sam had suggested that, after reviewing every ruling, they group the rulings by category and bind them into a book to send to all the judges every few years. That way, if a judge had a dispute on a particular issue, the judge could use earlier rulings on the same issue as a guide.

While some worried that diverting potential maesters to become judges would lead to a shortfall in the number of maesters, Jon and Dany had a plan. Early in Jon’s reign, Dany had spearheaded expanding education to the common folk. Acolytes and novices who were well-educated but had given up on their dreams of becoming maesters were given a financial incentive to go to the bigger cities (King’s Landing, Oldtown, Lannisport, Gulltown, and White Harbor) and teach children basic lessons. In the process, they would identify certain promising children who would especially benefit from further education. When those particular students reached the proper age, they would be encouraged to attend the Citadel, thus making up for the shortfall of maesters caused by the new judges.

Of course, they weren’t doing everything they wanted. Dany had wanted the crown to pass to the oldest child, regardless of sex. Jon was more hesitant than Dany, thinking that if they enacted such a rule now it would be perceived as a slight against Aemon. So, Jon suggested that it should only take effect for the next, unborn generation. Dany agreed, but they ultimately decided to let Aemon and Alys decide that issue. After all, the King and Queen shouldn’t keep all the reforms for themselves.

Another issue they had left for the next generation was the treatment of natural sons and daughters. The Faith had lost much of its influence after the Long Night. After all, it wasn’t the Seven that saved Westeros, it was magic. It was dragons and direwolves, warging and greensight, glass candles and visions in the flames. It was the Lord of Light and the Old Gods. So, Jon and Dany thought it was the perfect time to rescind some of the traditions of the Faith, such as those pertaining to bastards. They had reached this conclusion, in part, due to their interactions with Larence Snow, Mya Stone, and Daemon and Sarella Sand. They wanted to enact a law stating that bastards would inherit their father’s name, or their mother’s (if that is what they preferred or the father was unknown). Of course, if the father still wanted to disown the child in favor of his “trueborn” children, he would have that right. But he could not deprive his child of their surname. _Everyone deserved a proper name_. However, Ser Davos had cautioned them against pursuing this particular reform now, saying that the air of legitimacy in the form of a proper surname could embolden bastards and their supporters to seek an inheritance, leading to a vast increase in property disputes.

The strategies involved in enacting these reforms were developed as a result of many grueling hours spent with Jon’s “wall” council. It was so nicknamed because the King first assembled it when planning for the Long Night and other events near the Wall. It was made up of the people Jon trusted and respected most, including family (Dany, Alys, and Aemon), small council members (Davos, Rodrik, Marwyn, and Arya), and informal advisors (Sam and, recently, Sarella Sand). Rhaella was an essential member of the original wall council, her perspective after reigning as both queen and dowager queen for almost 60 years unparalleled. Though no one could replace her, new members always mixed things up in pleasant ways. Sarella’s status as a maester had been rescinded when the Citadel discovered she was a woman. However, her and Sam had struck up a friendship years earlier when they were both still training at the Citadel and continued sending letters on a regular basis during their years apart. She was well-traveled and had been living in Dorne when Sam suggested requesting her assistance in planning for the Long Night. And so ironically, some of the best strategies they utilized to defeat and survive the ice demons of the North came from a Dornishwoman.

Just before entering the throne room, Jon felt the Queen’s hand grab his own. “You alright?” Dany checked.

“Just fine.”

“You’re going to do great.”

“So are you.”

“Well, that goes without saying,” Dany grinned. “Just remember, now is the perfect time to finally enact the reforms we’ve been talking about for years. We need to strike while the iron is hot. Seven hells, they think we’re literal gods, so we might as well get some good out of it!” Dany reasoned.

“Aye, can’t argue with that,” Jon squeezed her hand again three times: _I Love you_. Dany squeezed back four times: _I love you, too_.

Had it not been for her reign during his five-year absence, he knew they wouldn’t have been able to survive even if they had won the war. Dany’s rule had given them a solid foundation for rebuilding. After dismantling the rebels root and stem, Dany made sure that, as a condition for House Hightower’s ascendancy as Lords Paramount of the Reach, the Crown would have access to the Reach’s bountiful harvests. She demanded the same conditions with the Crakehalls and any remaining gold mined in the Westerlands.

As they entered the throne room, they were greeted not only by the Targaryen banner, but the banner of the Seven Kingdoms: a setting sun representing the Sunset Kingdoms, or a rising sun representing the new dawn after the Long Night, depending on your point of view. The setting sun was Alys’s idea, while the rising sun was Aemon’s, further confirmation that the future of Westeros was in great hands.

One by one, the lords swore to remain faithful to the King and Queen and House Targaryen. Afterwards, the King placed a copy of the unified code of law, compiled during the time of King Jaehaerys I, on the Iron Throne so that all could see it. The King and Queen then swore to all assembled that they would uphold the law and protect the people of Westeros. The Kingsguard were next, swearing fealty first to the law, and second to the King and Queen.

Lastly, the Great Council stood, made up of mostly second and third sons from powerful houses. Brandon Stark would represent the North. He was the current Lord of Moat Cailin, which was fitting as it put him closer to his wife Meera’s family at Greywater Watch. Rickon’s death during the Long Night was hard for all of them, but Jon was glad to see that Bran never stopped climbing high.

Harrold Hardyng would represent the Vale. His wife Sansa was next to him. Doubtless Lady Stark chose Lord Hardyng for Sansa on the assumption that he would soon ascend to Lord Paramount of the Vale considering Sweetrobin’s poor health. But Lord Robert Arryn was still alive and, if anything, healthier than ever. And he was sitting next to his wife, Myranda Royce, who was as buxom as ever. _Sweetrobin always had a love for breasts_ , Jon smirked.

Trystane Martell would represent Dorne. _Thank the gods_. Having Harrold Hardyng on the Great Council was bad enough without having Dany’s former betrothed. Jon also approved of the Reach’s representative, Humfrey Hightower, who had distinguished himself during the Long Night. Lyle Crakehall, the Westerlands’ representative, was the oldest of the Great Council members, _though you wouldn’t know it judging by the amount of energy and fight he still had_. Beric Dondarrion would represent the Stormlands until Orys, the son of Renly and Margaery Baratheon, came of age. The same was true for Patrek Mallister, who would be keeping the Riverlands’ seat warm for Edmund and Roslin Tully’s son, Hoster.

Jon felt an elbow in his side as Dany drew his attention to the representative of the Iron Islands, Asha Greyjoy, who was holding up a finished needlepoint picture and smirking. “Looks like I’ll be getting that song after all,” Dany snickered. He and Dany had last spoken with Asha at Winterfell in the days following the war.

**6 Months Ago**

“I’m glad to see you survived the fighting. I’m not sure the Iron Islands could afford to lose you,” Jon told Asha.

“I know, you both already stole Rodrik from us,” Asha accused, causing all three to chuckle.

“Thank you again for the recommendation. He has made a good Master of Coin.”

“Well, his talents were being wasted back home. Victarion and Aeron sure didn’t appreciate him.”

“Well, their loss is our gain,” Dany added.

“But as dense as they are, I’d much prefer them over my other uncle, Euron, who is no doubt wreaking havoc somewhere off the coast of Essos,” Asha warned.

“Speaking of wreaking havoc, how many bastards is your little brother up to now?” Jon asked.

“Seven, I think?” Asha calculated.

“I thought living with Ned Stark all those years would’ve influenced him more,” Dany lamented.

“Oh, it did, he would’ve been way worse, believe me,” Asha admitted.

“I still can’t believe you almost turned him into a Targaryen,” Jon joked.

“Gods, he almost died when he learned that he had been feeling up his sister for an entire day,” Asha recounted. She then looked at Jon, “Speaking of feeling up, you still owe me a finger dance,” she challenged.

“No thanks, I like having all my fingers.”

“And I like him having all his fingers as well,” Dany wiggled her eyebrows, causing them all to giggle.

“Besides making your Queen come undone, do you use your fingers for anything else? Didn’t your father play the harp?” Asha inquired.

Jon shot her an annoyed look, knowing full well what would happen next. “Yes! And he was amazing at it, he could make an entire room cry or dance, depending on the song. I’ve been begging Jon to learn how to play for years, but he’s much too stubborn,” Dany playfully reproached.

“Alright, lets make a deal, Your Grace. I’ll let you avoid the finger dance, if you write your Queen a song on the harp,” the ironborn wagered. Dany squealed and clasped her hands together against her chest, beaming.

“I’ll write a song for Dany if you make her a needlepoint picture,” Jon retorted.

“Deal,” Asha reached out her hand.

**Present**

Jon simply shook his head at Asha as she put down her gift to the Queen with a smirk on her face. One by one, each of the members of the Great Council then swore to uphold the law. The King told them to not swear loyalty to him in their positions as councilmen because the Great Council should remain independent of the throne (though they each swore loyalty in their capacity as lords).

As Jon was leaving, Alys grabbed his hand and whispered in his ear, “The Law is King,” before kissing him on the cheek.

After lunch, Jon and Dany returned to their chambers for a long rest. They made sure to schedule all their meetings with the lords the previous week so that they could spend some time alone together as Jon would be leaving the next day.

“Jon, I’ve been thinking. I know this is going to sound strange but hear me out. Now that Mother has passed, who was like a mother to both of us, we don’t have a mother anymore, or even a surrogate mother,” Dany spoke slowly, contemplating every word.

“Yeah, I guess we’re orphans now,” Jon smiled sadly.

“Jon, I want to be your mother,” Dany confessed, looking unsure at what his reaction would be.

Jon was confused, then laughed. “You want me to call you Muna like you call me Kepa when you get really worked up?” Jon had always joked about his wife’s "favorite" Valyrian word. 

Dany threw a pillow at him. “It’s not just about that. I mean, that’s part of it, but it’s more than that. I want to be your everything. I want you to come to me when you’re scared. I want to heal and nurture you when you’re at your weakest.” She sighed, “And I hate that the red priestess was the one who brought you back and nursed you back to health. That should’ve been me, Jon,” Dany’s voice was thick with emotion.

“Dany,” Jon began, a look of concern across his face that morphed into contemplation. “You’re already all that and more to me. But, in here, you can be my Muna,” Jon smiled.

“Say it again,” Dany commanded.

Jon brushed her cheek, “My Muna.”

“Your everything?”

“My everything.” Jon began lighting caressing her thigh, then stopped as a devious smile crossed his face. “Then I will be your son. And Mother, I’m to be married soon, to some daughter of a lord paramount. I’ve never been with a woman before, and I worry that I won’t know how to make her happy.”

Dany immediately caught on, “Well, listen to her, respect her, be kind to her, and you’ll make your future wife happy, I have no doubt.”

“It’s not just that. I worry that I won’t be able to please her, on our wedding night,” Jon diverted his eyes, embarrassed. “Do you think you could teach me how to please my future wife on our wedding night?”

Dany hummed, “I think I might be able to teach my _son_ how to please his future wife. First impressions are very important,” she ran her fingertips down his chest. “It is essential that you are confident and in command so that she can follow your lead. After all, she may not be experienced either.”

“Muna, how do women like to be touched?”

Dany bit her lip, “First, you should kiss her cheek,” she turned her face and waited. Jon gave a hesitant peck. “Then kiss her neck,” she leaned her head back slightly as Jon kissed her neck, less hesitant this time, then moved down to her collarbone, lingering longer with each kiss. “Now brush your fingertips along her chest, but don’t go for her breasts . . . yet.”

“Yes, Muna,” Jon obeyed, eliciting a sigh from Dany.

“Now, sweetling, put your hand right above her knee, and slowly move up, yes, under her dress, just like that,” Dany was whispering right into his ear. “That’s it, my son, just like that, right along her inner thigh . . . and as you move higher, if she’s ready, she’ll start to open her legs, like this,” Dany’s knees moved apart. “Now, sweet boy, you need to talk to her while you’re touching her. She needs to know how much you want her, how much you desire her.”

“Mother, gods you’re so beautiful, I’ve wanted you for so long. I think about you at night when I’m trying to fall asleep. I even touch myself,” Jon confessed as his hand continued caressing her inner thigh. “Is that wrong, Muna?”

“No sweetling, it’s not wrong. You can touch yourself all you want,” Dany reassured. “Now, at this point, you should kiss her, really kiss her.”

Jon brought his lips to hers, but though her mouth yielded to him, he did not take proper advantage. This caused Dany to pull back, “Play with her tongue,” she commanded, as Jon circled her tongue with his own. She then deepened the kiss with another moan. “You’re doing well, my son, now nibble on her bottom lip, let her know that you’re in contr—” Jon interrupted her by ravishing her mouth with his tongue as he pulled her hair, taking her bottom lip possessively in his teeth before letting go.

“Did I do good, Mother?”

“Yes,” Dany’s voice was filled with longing.

“Mother, what do I do when she seems ready? When she seems like she is going to break with desire?”

“Undo her laces,” she turned her back to him. She held the top of her dress against her chest. “Now, grab her breasts, and play with her nipples,” Dany slowly let her dress and shift fall down.

“Muna, your nipples are hard.”

“Yes they are, sweetling.”

“Is that common?”

Dany licked her lips, “It’s because I’m aroused, but you can make them harder when you play with them.”

Jon tweaked them with his fingertips, then gently squeezed them between his thumb and forefinger. “Can I use my mouth, Mother?”

“Of course, my son, you should always use your mouth . . . gods,” Dany whimpered.

“This isn’t the first time I’ve done so.”

“No, my sweet boy, you’ve suckled from my teat many times, and you’re always welcome, it feels so good, and it’ll make her feel good, I promise,” she began to run her fingers through his hair.

“May I touch you _there_ , now?” Jon asked.

“Yes, sweetling, you should caress her womanhood now. She’ll be ready for you,” Dany opened her legs even wider.

“Mother, may I remove your smallcl—” Jon didn’t get a chance to finish before Dany pulled off the soaked fabric. Jon looked at her silver curls, a shade or two darker than the hair on her head. He had insisted she grow them back. While he enjoyed the novelty of her bareness, it wasn’t his preference.

Jon brushed his fingertips along her lips, “Muna, why are you so wet?”

“That’s what happens to a woman when you kiss her and touch her all over. It’s a good thing, sweetling,” Dany insisted.

“Where should I touch you?”

“Open up her lips, and put a finger inside,” Dany hummed and closed her eyes, “now another one . . . yes, and move them in and out slowly, just like that my son, yes, gods!” Dany dug her fingernails into her breasts and then began pinching her nipples. “Now, take your thumb, and at the top part of her lips there will be a little nub. It’s very sensitive, so be gentle with it, but start to circle it with your thumb, yes, a little more pressure, yes, mmm.” Dany was silent, as if to take it all in, then she began to moan, “faster, faster sweetling, yes, mmm, just like that, don’t stop, don’t stop, keep, keep going . . . keep go---ahhh!” her legs began to tremble. “Stop-stop-stop . . . alright,” Dany exhaled.

“Did I hurt you? You were shaking?”

“No, you just made me feel really good. You did well sweet boy,” she smiled as she kissed him on the lips, her eyes still closed.

“I’m glad I made you feel good, Mother. But I’m still worried that I may not last long enough when we actually have sex,” Jon confessed.

“You’ve already given her a release, so don’t worry about how long you last. And you’ll last longer the second time, anyways. The first time can just be practice,” Dany reassured.

“So I can practice on you?”

“Yes, but you cannot finish in me. You must try to pull out first. But, if you forget, it’s alright, I can just get moon tea.”

Jon entered her slowly, still unsure. “I don’t want to hurt you, Mother.”

“You won’t hurt me, sweetling. I promise. Oh, that feels so good, sweet boy.”

“You’re so warm,” Jon started moving his hips slowly back and forth. Dany dug her fingernails into his back and wrapped her legs around him tight.

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop,” Dany begged.

“I’ll keep going if you let me practice on you tomorrow,” Jon asserted.

“Yes.”

“And the next day?” Dany nodded affirmatively. “No, say it,” Jon commanded.

“You can practice on me the next day.”

“So I can fuck you whenever I want?” Jon continued to push.

Dany opened her eyes in shock, but then they slowly rolled back into her head. “Yes, you can use me whenever you like, my son. I am yours, all yours.”

“Can I fuck you the day of my wedding so that I’ll last longer on my wedding night?”

“Gods, yes!”

“Every night, before I take my wife, you’ll be my practice. Do you understand?”

“Mm-hmm”

“But I don’t want to be intimate with you, because that would be cheating on my wife. It needs to be purely physical so she won’t feel betrayed.” Jon stopped and got off the bed, prompting a whine from Dany. “Get up and lay across the arm of that couch,” Jon ordered.

Dany meekly obeyed her son, her arse on display. Jon entered her quickly, causing her to gasp, as he began thrusting over the sounds of her whimpers. “Every night, I’m going to fuck you like a wolf until I come, that way I’ll be able to satisfy and properly worship my wife. Would you like that?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want your son to fuck you like a bitch?”

“Yes.”

“So you’re my bitch?

“Mm-hmm”

“Say it, Mother!”

“I’m my son’s bitch.”

“And I will use you.”

“Yes!”

“And degrade you.”

“Gods!”

“After all, it’s important that mothers serve their sons, and you will serve me by being my whore. Do you enjoy being your son’s whore, Muna? And when I’m done with your cunt, I’m going to take you arse and mouth next. But not before I make you beg for it like the whore that you—”

Dany cried out and clenched hard around him, interrupting his vitriol. Jon finished soon afterwards with the thought of how he would punish her. “Daenerys, you’re an adult, you shouldn’t let your son whore you like that,” he slapped her arse hard. “You need to be taught a lesson for leading your own son astray with your wantonness, don’t you agree?”

Dany was being stubborn with her silence, so Jon wet his finger in her cunt and entered her tight arse, grabbing a handful of hair with the other hand. “I said, don’t you agree you need to be taught a lesson for forcing your son to turn his own mother into a whore?” Dany whined, but eventually nodded her head in agreement.

It only took a few minutes for Jon to tie her arms and legs to each bed post, leaving her completely vulnerable to him. Jon wanted to have his way with her, especially now that she was ripe for the taking, but he also needed to adequately chastise her for being such a wanton slut and fantasizing about her own son. So, he slowly began to get dressed.

“Jon, what are you doing?”

“I have a few things to do before the feast tonight.”

“So, you’re just going to leave me here?” Dany was incredulous.

“How else are you going to learn to not desire your own son? I was testing you, and you failed. I’m very disappointed in your behavior.”

Jon turned and walked out the door to the sounds of Dany’s pleas.

**DANY POV**

_That fucking idiot just left with the door wide open and his fucking wife spread-eagle on the gods damn bed for anyone to see. What the fuck, Jon?! Fuck! Fuck! Fuuuuuuuuuuck!!! I hate him sometimes. The fuck am I supposed to do now? He’ll come back, he’s too possessive of me, he won’t want anyone to see me like this. Gods, but what if they do? I could never face them again. I’d have to banish them to Essos. And if Ser Oswell saw me like this, he’d never stop smirking. Gods damn you, Jon!_

Just then, she heard two women talking. She would’ve froze had she been capable of movement. They were right outside the door. _Please gods, please, please, please. Well, better to be found by a woman than a man. But what if they can’t untie the rope? Jon always does his stupid fancy knots. Gods, they’ll probably have to call a fucking man to untie Jon’s fucking man-knots. Fuuuuuck!_

Fortunately, the chattering slowly faded as they walked away from the door. _Thank the gods! I’m still going to fucking kill him. Even if no one sees me like this. He’s fucking dead. He’s so fucking—_

Just then Jon sauntered through the door, interrupting her thoughts. “Shut the door, and untie me, right now, or I swear to every fucking god I will torch your fucking arse to seven hells,” Dany wanted to yell, but had to settle on a loud, assertive whisper so no one would get alarmed and come running in.

“You really shouldn’t threaten to kill your husband, the father of your children,” Jon was nonchalantly looking at the scroll in his hand without a care in the world, his hair partially covering the new scar over his eye, a reminder of the war.

“Li-sten-to-me. I don’t care that some piece of paper says that you’re my husband or that you squirted a few kids into my belly. If you do not shut the door and untie me this second I will rain fire and blood down on everyone you hold dear,” she threatened, gritting her teeth and snarling.

“You mean the very same people you hold dear?”

“Fine, just you,” she hissed.

“Well, I’ll just warg into Rhaegal and stop you,” Jon still didn’t look up from his scroll.

“You can’t warg into Rhaegal, he’s mine,” Dany growled.

“I’ve done it before,” Jon finally looked at her.

“I never gave you permission to do that! Quit using your creepy Stark powers on _my_ dragon!” Dany was livid.

“Duly noted,” Jon then took out a blindfold from his pocket and covered her eyes.

Dany grunted in frustration. “Jaehaerys Targaryen, I will cut off your cock and balls and make you eat them if you don’t take this blindfold off and untie me!” she seethed. After about a minute, she tensed as she felt fingertips against her womanhood. “No! You will not touch me there. I hate you right now, you don’t get to touch me there!” She then felt his fingers sink into her with ease. _Fuck, of course that arse made me wet. Just fucking perfect._ He began caressing her clit. _Fuck him, fuck him, I hate him_. Then a whimper escaped her. _Damn, I cannot reward him_. Then a moan. Then she felt his heat on her ear.

“The door is wide open,” Jon whispered. “Everyone can see you.” Dany began to tremble. “But don’t worry, everyone who works in the Red Keep already knows their Queen is a whore. True, Ser Arys blushed a few minutes ago when he saw you, but he’ll learn. Ser Oswell just laughed. After all, he’s been listening to you whimper and moan like a slut for years.” Dany whined as Jon kept circling her nub and pumping his fingers into her cunt. “But here’s what I’m going to do. You’ve been telling me that we need to do things to help lift the spirits of the small folk. Well, I’ve decided to do just that. When I left the first time I asked that a hundred men from Flea Bottom be rounded up and brought here. And they’re each going to fuck you, one by one.” She moaned and licked her lips, her breathing quickening. “And you’re going to whine and squirm and moan because you’re a whore and you can’t help yourself. But here’s the best part: they’ll know that they fucked you, but you won’t. So when you journey down to Flea Bottom, you’ll likely pass by men who have seen how hard your nipples get, who have felt how wet and tight your cunt is, who have heard your moans and whimpers, but you’ll never know which ones. Would you like that, my little slut?” Dany mewled. “I said, would you like that?” Jon continued his assault on her clit, effortlessly gliding over it as her juices flowed.

Dany nodded and bit her lip, “Mm-hmm.”

“You’d truly be a Queen of the people. Alysanne is the ‘Good Queen,’ but you’d be the ‘Great Queen.’ Oh, I think I hear them coming now.” Dany spasmed at his words and let out a string of obscenities.

“Alright, hold off a second, let me finish getting her ready for you,” Jon was speaking to someone. Her heart was going to break free from her chest. She felt fingers on her lips and began to suck. “How do you taste?” Jon inquired.

“Hmm, delicious,” Dany smiled, trying to prepare herself for whatever the seven hells Jon had planned.

She then felt a finger inside her, and then a fingertip rubbing something moist on her lips. “Don’t lick it off, I want to taste you the next time we kiss, alright?”

“Yes, my King.”

After a few seconds, a fingernail began lightly scratching between her cunt and hole, then a fingertip began circling her rosebud. “Oh, and one more thing, while some of the men want to take your cunt, others are a bit more adventurous and want to take your mouth and arse.” Jon sank his finger into her easily as it was already coated with her juices, causing Dany to clench. He then began massaging her nub again. “Would you like that, little Queen? Would you like for dozens of men to take your arse? You might be the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, but you’d just be another warm hole for them to get off in. You’d be completely indistinguishable from a common whore. And maybe if we tie you up and offer you to a hundred men every week, you’d eventually fuck all the men in King’s Landing, and even some of the women.”

Dany felt a warm mouth envelope her nipple, then teeth and tongue, and, her arse, clit . . . _it's too much_. “Jon, please stop! Hold me, Jon, just hold me. . . Double D.” Jon immediately ceased. She felt her blindfold being taken off and saw a concerned face staring down at her.

“Are you alright, love? I’m sorry, did I hurt you?” Jon’s brows were furrowed deep with worry as he quickly untied her.

“No, my love, it felt good, very good. It just got to be overwhelming at the end. I just want you, I don’t want anyone else.”

“Of course, come here. Well, here, let me,” Jon proceeded to take off his clothes. “I like it when our skin touches,” he smiled.

“Me too,” Dany hummed. Jon stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head as it lied on his scarred chest. “Who were you talking to?”

“No one. Do you really think I’d ever let anyone see you naked?”

“But the door?”

“I made sure the kingsguard blocked the entire area off, no one was getting anywhere near that door.”

“But the girls talking?”

“I paid two maids to stand 10 feet from the door and talk. I watched them like a hawk to make sure they didn’t take a single step further. Then I ordered them to leave.”

“And when I had the blindfold on?”

“I am capable of shutting and locking a door quietly, you know,” Jon smirked.

“I hate you,” Dany smiled.

“I know.”

“And I’m going to get my revenge on you tonight. So, just wait,” Dany lifted her head off his chest and raised her brow to punctuate her threat.

“Of that I have no doubt, my love.”

“And anyone could’ve seen me, spread-eagle, despite your best efforts,” Dany was not ready to forgive him just yet.

“There’s nothing wrong with seeing a Queen in all her glory. After all, a good queen spreads many things: wealth, hope, her legs,” Jon smirked.

She pinched his nipple, “You should give yourself a hand for that one, because that’s all you’ll be getting the rest of your life because _we_ are never having sex ever again,” Dany emphasized, before the corners of her mouth betrayed her at the sight of Jon’s pout.

They sat with the Starks at the feast. “Have you noticed how well Cregan and Lyarra have been getting along?” Robb asked. Despite being married to Alys Karstark, both of Robb’s children had the Tully look.

“Well, he could use a Stark-looking wife who loves the North, and maybe even has a direwolf,” Jon joked as Dany smacked him.

“It is way too early to be thinking about that,” she playfully chided.

“I don’t know, I fell in love with Robb when I was a small girl after he danced with me. No doubt it was my father’s plan all along. I’m just surprised it actually worked,” Alys Karstark grinned.

“Speaking of love, I heard Mist is about to pop,” Robb added. “It’ll be nice to get some more pups after all these years.”

“Aye, Night finally did it, the old rascal,” Jon laughed.

“Jon, I know you’re probably tired of talking about the Long Night. But would you mind if I asked you a question?” Bran asked.

“Not at all,” Jon offered.

“Did you hear the voice as well?” Bran inquired.

The table grew quiet as Jon sighed. “Aye, the Other asked, ‘Where is Stark?’ and so I answered,” Jon explained solemnly. “I know he didn’t open his mouth, but it’s like I could hear his thoughts.”

“We could, too,” Arya acknowledged. “It’s like those with Stark blood have a connection to the Others somehow?” she speculated. “But apparently no one else could hear it, and so they were all confused as to why you yelled ‘I am Stark!’” the table chuckled at Arya’s impression.

“Aye,” Jon smiled sadly.

“And gods, their voice, it was so eerie,” Robb interjected.

“I didn’t mean to steal your thunder, either,” Jon explained. “But the red priestess said that I should be the one to say it because I look like the Starks of old. If either of you had said it, they might’ve gotten confused,” Jon chuckled.

“Well, I don’t mind at all. If all of them came at me, like they did you, I probably would’ve shit myself,” Robb said as his wife slapped his arm reproachfully.

“I’m sure the bards would’ve loved that,” Dany japed, as the table burst into chuckles, even Alys.

“And what in the seven hells did you do to my sword?” Robb asked, and everyone once again looked to Jon, interested in his explanation.

“Melisandre told me there is power in King’s blood. After I was wounded, some of my blood got on Ice, which caused it to glow red hot,” Jon detailed.

“Ironic, considering its name,” Arya japed, leading to another round of laughter.

“Congrats on being the northern representative on the Great Council,” Jon praised Bran, no doubt desperate to change the subject. “It’s a great position for second sons.”

“Aye, we’re all very proud of him,” Meera, his wife, beamed. She then turned to Jon. “I know you and my father used to exchange ravens frequently. I’ve lost count of how many times he’s told me the story of the tourney at Harrenhal and the Knight of the Laughing Tree. He’s always admired your mother for standing up for him to those squires. When he heard about how you stood up for Samwell Tarly to his father at the Great Council, he said that you reminded him of Lyanna, and that she’d be proud of you.”

Jon had to look away for a second, and Dany put her hand on his leg to steady him. She turned to Meera, “Thank you for sharing that. We all know she’d be proud of the man Jon has become.” Jon thanked Meera as well once he had regained his composure.

“Hello family,” Sansa said as she and Lord Hardyng sauntered up to the table, arm-in-arm.

“My goodness,” Lord Hardyng smiled at Dany. “You have somehow managed to become even more beautiful after all these years. The King sure is a lucky man! Would it be too bold of me to ask for your hand to kiss?”

She saw her husband sneering out of the corner of her eye. _Men, they get mad at the silliest things_. “Well, I’m sure my husband wouldn’t mind,” and she extended her arm. Jon said nothing.

“And the Queen isn’t the only one who’s aged well. I daresay that the King looks even more ruggedly handsome now than when he fostered at Winterfell,” Sansa complimented. “And that’s saying a lot because we all used to fight over who’d get to marry him.” _Watch it, bitch_. “In fact, I distinctly remember volunteering to teach you to dance,” she continued to flirt. “And it wasn’t simply out of the goodness of my heart.” _Slut, you will burn_.

“Sansa, he could only tolerate dancing lessons from you for like 20 minutes, and that was only because Mother insisted. He spent the rest of the afternoon riding in the Wolfswood with me and Robb,” Arya thankfully interjected. “Well, it looks like another course is about to be served. You two should probably return to your table before your food gets cold.” Sansa’s mask fell for a split second before she politely dismissed herself.

“Asha, this is terrible,” Jon criticized as he held the needlepoint picture Asha had made for his wife. “Arya would’ve done a better job.” The three of them were sitting in Jon’s solar after the feast.

“I think it’s endearing,” Dany defended. “At least someone around here thinks I’m worthy of a gift,” she pursed her lips at her husband.

“Our deal said nothing about how good our gifts to the Queen had to be, just that we should give them. And apparently, I’m the only one who upheld my end of the bargain,” Asha guilted.

“You upheld nothing. In fact, you completely violated the spirit of the agreement,” Jon countered.

“I’m ironborn, we don’t concern ourselves with the spirit of agreements. Just be glad I’m not reaving and raping. Girls _can_ rape, you know,” Asha raised her brow in challenge. “And I haven’t even taken any salt husbands recently,” they all laughed.

“Fair enough, but fortunately for our Queen, I uphold both the letter and spirit of my agreements. I’ll be right back,” Jon strutted off.

“I’m not sure where he’s going. The King has been really busy lately, but I think he will eventually teach himself the harp and I’ll get my song,” Dany defended her husband now that he was out of earshot. “But thank you, me and Jon both needed to laugh today. Everything has been weighing so heavily on us.”

Asha smiled, “I understand, and I’m glad I could help lighten the mood, as well as make the King feel guilty,” they both chuckled.

Jon returned with a harp in hand. “Jon, I’ve never seen you with a harp. Are you going to make up a song just to spite Asha?” Dany accused.

“You know all the times I was out late with Sam and Davos? I lied, I wasn’t with them. The name of this song is “Dragons in the Godswood.” Jon began to play a slow, surprisingly beautiful ballad. The melody wasn’t as complex as some of Rhaegar’s songs, but it was somehow equally as enchanting. And then he began to sing. His voice wasn’t as pure as Rhaegar’s, it was more raw with hints of his northern accent, but it was still stunning nonetheless. The words were all about her and Jon’s favorite moments in the Godswood: from the first time he took her there and she promised to be his home, to when she proposed marriage and gave him his first kiss, to recently when they renewed their marriage vows before the heart tree. When he finished, she was silent, her face soaked with tears. _How could the same man be so deviously filthy and beautifully thoughtful, all in the same day?_

She turned to a wide-eyed Asha. “Thank you again for my gift. I think the King and I will retire to our bed now.” Asha nodded her head and left, but not before looking back at Jon with a queer look on her face.

They both bathed and dressed for bed.

“I’m still going to punish you tonight, but not right now. Right now, I want you inside me, and I want you to hold me.” As they lay entwined, Dany asked Jon to sing her the song again, every verse, from the beginning. As he sang, she scratched his bare back and hummed along, closing her eyes and eventually drifting off.

She awoke during the hour of the wolf, glad that there was still time for his punishment. She poked her King, and when he opened his eyes, she tugged his hair. "Alright my little King, we have much to do before you journey north. You will pleasure me with your mouth, but you don’t deserve my cunt after you tied me up. So, you will pleasure my arse, an arsehole for an arsehole.” Jon smiled and moved into position, but Dany stopped him. “I’m not finished. While you pleasure me, I will test your stamina. I will give you 10 strokes. As you’re a man grown, and not a green boy, you should be able to endure these 10 strokes without making a mess. But if you do make a mess, you will clean it up, with your mouth. Understood?” Dany ordered.

“Yes, my Queen,” Jon began pleasuring her with his tongue. It felt good, both the sensation, and the knowledge that the King was so willing to debase himself for her whenever she asked.

By the time she had applied the oil to her hand, he was already hard. _Good, I don’t want to waste any strokes_. She grabbed his balls with one hand and squeezed the base of his cock with the other. She then moved it up, tantalizingly slow. When she got to the head, he began to moan and grasp her arse cheeks.

“One,” she stated, which elicited another moan from her husband.

His moans got louder with every subsequent number, and his tonguing became more erratic. After six strokes, she realized she needed to ensure his punishment, so she got more oil, and sunk her finger into his arsehole.

“Fuck, Dany! That’s cheating,” the King complained.

She smiled a wicked grin. _Too easy_. As she slowly performed her seventh stroke, she wiggled her finger that was inside him, causing him to dig his fingernails into her arse cheek and completely stop worshipping her own hole. “Little nephew, did I say you could stop debasing yourself? Continue now or you will eat your own mess even if you last longer than 10 strokes. Understood?” Jon answered by resuming to tongue her. _He won’t last much longer_.

On the eighth stroke, he exploded everywhere as soon as she got to the head of his cock. “Little nephew, I didn’t realize I was married to a green boy who makes a mess every time he’s touched. That is unacceptable. You’re the King of the Seven Kingdoms, and nearly 40 years of age. There is absolutely no excuse for you to be making such messes. Am I clear?” she chastised.

“Yes, my Queen. I’m sorry for making a mess.”

“You need to be taught a lesson. You will clean up your mess with your mouth,” which her husband promptly did. “When you’re done cleaning up, I want you to rinse your mouth with mint. I might want to kiss you before you leave,” Dany then sat down in a chair, completely nude. When Jon returned, she gave him additional instructions. “I want you to crawl to your Queen, on your hands and knees,” which he did with surprising grace. She had her legs crossed, and slightly raised her higher foot, “It’s been months since I’ve had my toes sucked, little King.”

“Yes, my Queen,” Jon commenced worshipping her feet. 

After he had done both feet, she decided she was ready for him to worship her cunt, so she spread her legs. “Bring your face to my cunt, but don’t touch it until I pat you on the head,” she commanded. “It is important that I instill self-control in the King of the Seven Kingdoms, don’t you think?”

“Yes, my Queen.” She made him stay there for a minute, before finally patting him on the head. 

He was very talented at pleasing her this way, so she needed to remain vigilant if she was to continue to control him. After about 30 seconds, she patted him on the head again, his sign to stop, though he still had to remain an inch from her cunt at all times. She patted his head to resume. “It’s been a while since I’ve had any ladies in waiting. I think I will take a few. And maybe Sansa could be one of them. Wouldn’t that be fun? What would you do if I made your sweet cousin into my little whore?”

She patted his head to stop so he could speak. “No one could stop you, my Queen. You could make any highborn lady in the Seven Kingdoms into your whore.”

“But do you enjoy the thought of me dominating another woman?”

“Yes, my Queen,” Jon admitted. “Especially because it would piss off Hardyng,” Jon sneered.

She patted Jon on the head so he’d resume. “I want you to have a collar made for her. It’s very important that she know her place. And of course, I’ll brand her arse with a big “DT” so her husband will also know. I’ll let her sleep at the foot of our bed like a dog and make her watch while I fuck the cousin she so desperately desires. But the only part of you she’ll get is your cum when I make her clean me after you’re done filling me with your seed,” Dany plotted.

She continued patting Jon on and off a few times, until she was on the edge from his tongue and the thought of making Sansa her pet. “Lay down,” she ordered Jon. She then straddled his face. “I’m going to mark your face with my juices. And if you want to fuck me one last time before you travel north, you have to wish Sansa goodbye with my mark glistening on your face,” she offered with a sinister grin. She rode him until she tensed and squeezed the sides of his head with her thighs. When she rolled off, his face was coated with her essence.

An hour later, as it was beginning to get light outside, they lied in bed, content. Jon had managed to convince her to let him fuck her one last time without visiting Sansa. “I want to stay inside you forever,” Jon hummed. She smiled, _if only_.

“Well, you wouldn’t be much of a King if you did that,” she countered.

“It never stops. There’s always something to do, somewhere to go, someone to visit, a crisis to avert, a war to fight, people to feed. Why would anyone ever want to be King?” he complained.

“So they could fuck the Queen, silly,” she japed.

After Jon hugged his children goodbye, they shared a moment alone in the dragon pit before Jon mounted Lyannaxes to quell a controversy between the Wildlings and Umbers. She tugged his hair, “You know the rules. No other women, and no touching yourself while you’re gone.”

“It’s actually gotten easier as I’ve gotten older. I think I’m getting more self-control,” Jon bragged.

“Really, so it’s no longer difficult to abstain from your wife?” she questioned as Jon’s face fell. “Well, that’s good to know,” she began caressing him through his breeches, feeling him start to grow. Back before her dragons, her ability to immediately make him hard on command was her first taste of magic. Even as a 14-year-old girl she enjoyed that power as she could use it to get whatever she wanted from her nephew. He had a similar power to make her moist just by sitting beside her or holding her hand, though she’d never admit that to him.

She brought her lips to within an inch of his own, then removed her hand. “Have a safe trip!” she smiled and backed away.

“I hate you,” Jon complained.

“But it’s so easy now that you’re older, so it shouldn’t be a problem,” she responded as she strutted away.

Dany was sitting on the Iron Throne, getting ready to hear a group of petitioners from Essos. After looking at the lengthy list, she feared her bottom would become numb by the end of the day.

The first woman came forward. She had almond-shaped eyes, copper skin, and black hair. “Your Grace, I am from Lhazar, and I have come to plead on behalf of my people.” She spoke the common tongue with difficulty, but Dany could still understand her. “For years, the Dothraki have burned our villages and raped our women. And ever since the darkness came, it has only gotten worse. The Dothraki took it as a sign that they should increase their pillaging to please the Great Stallion.”

“What is your name?” the Queen asked.

“Eroeh,” the woman replied.

“Well, Eroeh, what would you like the King and I to do about the plight of your people?”

“We’ve heard stories about you and the King, and how you made the darkness go away. We thought that if you could end the forever night, maybe you could help us. Because while horses can trample sheep, they cannot trample dragons.”

A chill went through Dany’s body, though she made sure to keep perfectly composed. “Thank you, Eroeh. The King and I will speak to our advisors about the plight of the Lhazareen. You have my word,” Dany smiled.

There were several more petitioners from all over Essos, complaining about the increase in oppression and persecution due to the Long Night. The Lhazareen weren’t the only ones complaining about the Dothraki. Many in the Free Cities were tired of the increased tribute the horse lords were demanding.

The last petitioner was a woman from Astapor with a round face and dusky skin. “Your Grace, thank you for taking the time to hear my petition, and the petitions of others from Essos. I can assure you that we would not trouble you unless the matter was indeed grave,” she spoke the common tongue effortlessly. “I am originally from Naath. My brothers and I were sold into slavery in Astapor. I became a scribe, while they became Unsullied. Recently, I escaped from my master, and made my way here. You see, when the darkness came, the masters feared slave uprisings, so they punished us to make us too scared to revolt. I have scars across my back from the whips,” she stopped as she became emotional.

“Please, take your time. And what is your name?”

“Missandei, Your Grace. And like many have said, there are stories across Essos about how you and the King stopped the Long Night and brought the dawn. They say you are both gods and have dragons. I’ve heard it said that a dragon is not a slave. I, and many like me, hope that if a dragon is truly not a slave, then it would not tolerate the enslavement of others who are not fortunate enough to be dragons themselves.”

Dany had made up her mind. “Well, Missandei, I promise that I will discuss the plight of the enslaved across Essos with the King and my advisors. Also, would you mind staying a little bit longer? I’d like to discuss some things with you.”

“Of course, your Grace,” Missandei bowed her head.

**JON POV**

After a few weeks away from his family, Jon was happy to be home. He was sitting with Dany and his children. “So, was your trip a success?” Alys inquired, taking his hand in her own as they sat next to each other.

“Well, not at first, but then I gave up trying to reason with Tormund and Greatjon and got them drinking. After a few hours they were singing songs arm-in-arm and had completely forgotten about the conflict between their peoples.”

“Liquid diplomacy,” Aemon jested.

Jon chuckled, “Aye. That, and I sent a few of the Wildling trouble-makers back north of the Wall, so hopefully the others will behave. I think the situation is contained, at least for now.”

“Well, there are three surprises waiting for you,” Dany smiled coyly. “Lyarra has the first.”

At the sound of her name, Lyarra came out with a black direwolf pup in her arms. “Mist had her pups! There wasn’t a white one this time, but we know how fond you are of black, so we figured he belonged to you,” his youngest daughter explained, handing the pup to Jon. “There are other pups for Aunt Arya and Sansa, Robb, and Bran,” Lyarra continued. “And there’s even an extra one, which is just perfect!”

Jon furrowed his brow, “That’s strange, wait, why is that perfect?”

Alys grinned, “I’m pregnant!”

“What?! That’s amazing!” Jon got up still holding his pup in one arm and hugged Alys, then Aemon, with his free one. He looked at Dany, “You’re going to be a grandmother!”

“I know!” Dany beamed. “And you’ll be a grandfather!”

“I want to name my niece or nephew,” Daeron suggested.

“There’s no way they’re letting you name the baby,” Lyarra groaned.

After everyone settled down, Jon started to play with his pup. But then he remembered, “So, what’s the third surprise?”

Dany grew solemn, “I want us to go to Essos.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dany and Jon seek alliances among the Free Cities and encounter a Kraken and Khal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Chapters 5 and 6 are my darkest chapters. Dany will be raped off page this chapter, which will cause both Jon and Dany to turn much darker. Please proceed with caution. Thank you.

**DANY POV**

“It is ironic that the breaker of chains is herself bound,” Jon noted as he ran his fingernails down her chest and over her breasts.

“It’s not slavery if you get to choose your master,” Dany responded as she straddled Jon’s leg naked, blindfolded, and with her hands tied behind her back.

They were staying in Illyrio Mopatis’s manse in Pentos. Her and Jon were wary when they first received the invitation, considering that Viserys had stolen Blackfyre from Illyrio a few years earlier. However, Illyrio had recently died, and his son, a handsome man with silver hair and purple eyes, had assured them that he bore them no ill will. _Blackfyre isn’t ours anyways, as my father stole it from some drunk sellsword. I’m glad it is back with House Targaryen where it belongs_ , he explained.

They were in Pentos because in a month they would be meeting with the leaders of the Free Cities regarding the ending of slavery across Essos. The pleas of Missandei, Eroeh, and others across Essos had convinced Dany that she had to act. It took a little time to persuade Jon, but once he agreed to do something, there was no stopping him. Aside from Braavos and Pentos, the other Free Cities politely declined their demand to end slavery, though they still agreed to meet. The cities of Slaver’s Bay, on the other hand, had rejected their demands with foul language and the severed body parts of slaves. _War it is then_.

They had left Alys and Aemon in charge, with Ser Davos advising them as Hand. They worried that the newly formed Great Council may try to take advantage of the situation, but they had faith in their children, and trusted the small council and their allies on the Great Council.

They had crossed the Narrow Sea with 20,000 soldiers (mostly young and unmarried) on ships from the Velaryon, Redwyne, and even Greyjoy fleets (courtesy of Asha), flying Targaryen and Westerosi banners. Dany had enjoyed the trip, spending most of her time on the deck watching Rhaegal and Lyannaxes soar over the open waters and listening to the sailors’ stories. They were accompanied by Missandei and Sam. Dany and Missandei had grown extremely close over the last few months, with Missandei acting as her constant companion and advisor. Her knowledge of Essos and slavery was going to be crucial if they were to have any chance of success.

The task before them was immense, and there was much they needed to do. But first, her and Jon would relieve some stress the best way they knew how.

Jon continued lightly brushing his fingertips over her legs and arms, and then tweaked her nipples, eliciting a moan from Dany. “Are you going to obey my every command tonight?”

“Yes, Kepa.”

“Even if it’s painful?”

“Yes.”

“Even if you don’t desire it?”

“Yes.”

“Do you trust me?”

“With all that I have.”

“Will you give yourself completely to me?”

“Yes.” His thumb lightly glided over her lips, and she caught it with her teeth and started sucking. Jon then kissed her passionately, causing her to whimper. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and run her fingers through his hair while his tongue invaded her mouth, but alas she was bound, and completely at his mercy.

After a few minutes he untied her and took her blindfold off. “Stand up,” he commanded. She got off his leg and looked down at the wet spot on his breeches. “What happened, little dragon?”

“I made a mess,” Dany made sure to look ashamed.

“And what happens when we make messes?” Jon’s voice was commanding.

“We need to be punished,” she bit her lip.

“Go get your collar.”

“Yes, Kepa.” She ate her dinner on the floor with her bare hands, naked and kneeling, making sure to dutifully answer to every gentle tug Jon would give her leash when he wanted her attention. Jon sat fully clothed at the table eating with a knife and fork, reading a book about the history of Braavos.

When they finished eating, they bathed and Jon lit candles, his sign that their nocturnal activities were just beginning. “Do you know why I have tugged on your hair everyday for the past week, my sweet girl?” Jon asked.

“I do. You told me not to touch myself.”

“And what did you do?”

“I touched myself when I thought you weren’t looking,” Dany put on her best look of guilt. She loved when Jon would scold her in a fatherly way. As punishment, for the past week, he had ordered her to touch herself until she got close, but would then force her to stop and go to bed. At this point she was almost ready to explode and had become so sensitive that she got aroused every time her legs touched.

“Sit on the bed, and spread your legs for me,” Jon ordered, and Dany eagerly obeyed, making sure to sway her naked hips invitingly as she sashayed to the bed. “Touch your nipples until they get hard. Now squeeze them. Good,” Jon studied her with intense concentration. They both knew each other’s bodies far better than they knew their own.

“Now massage your lower lips but don’t touch your clit.” She did so for a few minutes, feeling her pleasure begin to build, though her nub was aching for her touch. “Are you ready for your fingers yet?”

“Yes.”

“Put two fingers inside, and slowly fuck yourself. How does that feel?”

“Good,” Dany whimpered, her eyes closed.

“Now you may play with your clit, slowly.” _Gods, it feels so good. But I need to be careful. If I came without Jon’s permission_ . . .

“Now take your fingers from your cunt and put one in your arse.” She was enjoying the sensations, but this was normally when Jon would make her stop and get dressed and go to bed. But he was letting her continue to pleasure herself, so maybe tonight was going to be different?

Jon took a small hourglass out. “You have five minutes. When the sand leaves the top vial, you will no longer be allowed to touch yourself the rest of the night, understood? Also, you may not touch your breasts or cunt, only your nub and arse.”

Dany nodded and prepared herself. “Begin,” Jon flipped the hourglass.

She made herself come in less than a minute, though after a week of not being allowed a release, she wasn’t surprised. As she was catching her breath, Jon reminded her, “You still have a few minutes. Are you sure you don’t want to try for a second one?”

“May I touch whatever I want?”

“Yes, my naughty little aunt.”

She accepted his challenge and began fingering her cunt and lightly rubbing her clit as it was still sensitive. “You better hurry, the vial is about half empty.” She began putting more pressure on her nub. “You’re running out of time.” _Shut up Jon, I’m getting there_. She began rhythmically pumping her fingers into her core. “You better hurry.” She moved her fingers faster and faster until she was furiously fucking herself and assaulting her clit. “You better come now, 10-9-8 . . .” _Come on, come on, please gods_ , “7-6-5 . . .” _yes . . . yes! . . . YES! . . . oh fuuuuuuck!!!!_ “4-3-2 . . .” Dany curled her toes and cried out. “1 . . . time’s up,” Jon smiled.

Dany’s hair was matted to her forehead with sweat as she tried to catch her breath. “Come here, little dragon,” Jon’s voice was warm. Dany crawled across the bed to him. He held her in his arms and looked strangely proud of her. “You did good. What were you thinking about to make yourself come twice in five minutes?”

“Do you really want to know?” Dany smiled and raised her brow.

“Of course,” Jon smirked.

“You fucking me up the arse in the throne room in front of everyone. It’s one of my favorite fantasies if I need to come fast.” Jon gave her an amused look. “Do you remember the first time I asked you to fuck my arse?” Dany asked.

Jon snorted, “Gods, you were so drunk. You said that you could please me better than any whore, and that anything they could do you could do better.”

“You didn’t put up much of a fight,” Dany playfully accused.

“Well, I was drunk, too,” they both laughed.

“Seven hells, I couldn’t walk right for a week,” Dany rolled her eyes.

“And yet you’ve still asked me to do it a few more times?” Jon said, bemused.

“Well, when I’m deep in my cups I forget how much it hurts. The idea really excites me, it’s one of my favorite things to think about in the bath. But actually doing it is another thing, entirely. I much prefer your fingers,” Dany gave a sultry smile.

Jon hummed, “What do you want right now, sweetling?” He lightly stroked her cheek with an adoring look.

 _But I’m not in the mood to be adored_. “I want you to fuck me,” she challenged.

In an instant the adoring look in Jon’s eyes was replaced with hunger. “You have to earn it,” he growled.

She removed his silken pants and took his semi-hard cock in her mouth. She worshipped his length with her lips and tongue, before moving lower, and lower still. It wasn’t long before he was fully stiff.

“Now you must properly present yourself to be fucked,” he ordered.

“Yes, Kepa,” she turned and put her face down and wiggled her arse, taunting him, beckoning his animalistic urges. She learned early on that she could control how hard he fucked her just by how high she raised, and how much she wiggled, her arse.

Jon slowly buried his cock completely inside her warmth and ran his fingernails along the length of her back while she clenched tight around him. She eagerly waited for him to begin taking her like she was his, but instead he slowly unsheathed himself, causing her to whimper in disappointment at the feeling of sudden emptiness.

He walked around to her front. “Clean me off,” he commanded.

“Yes, Kepa,” she took almost his entire length in her mouth, and slowly sucked her juices off. He entered her again and began taking her slow and deep, and then picked up the pace. _The thought of my swaying arse at the front of his mind, no doubt_. He pounded her harder and harder, driving her down onto the bed until she was prone. Jon held her arms behind her back with one hand and grabbed her hair with the other. This was usually when he started spewing his filth, much to her delight.

“I told Missandei to come over. I thought we’d be finished by now, but we’re not. You don’t think she’d mind waiting while we finished up, do you? And you wouldn’t mind if she saw you wearing your slave collar and getting fucked like a whore? You _have_ told her you’re a whore, right?”

“She knows . . . I’m . . . your whore,” Dany labored.

“Do you want her to see? Does that excite you?” Jon emphasized his question with a hard thrust, causing her to gasp. “The door is unlocked, I told her to come in. Better yet, maybe she can join in? Would you like to eat her cunt while I fuck you from behind?”

“Gods,” Dany moaned.

“I always knew you secretly wanted to taste another woman, after all I know you love tasting yourself. Which one would taste sweeter? I bet you could make her come with your little queen tongue. She was a slave, but do you think she’d make a good mistress? I think she would, she’d treat you well.”

Jon slowed his assault on her and leaned close to whisper in her ear. “I bet you’d love to submit to another woman, to have her sit on your face until you scratched and clawed because you couldn’t breathe. Would you like to be smothered by Missandei’s cunt?” Dany whimpered. “Say it,” Jon ordered.

“I want Missandei’s cunt to smother me,” Dany admitted.

Jon was moving in slow, circular motions inside her. “Then, she’d tie you up, with your legs bent back and tied to your wrists, leaving you completely exposed to her.” Jon began thrusting harder. “Then she’d ravish you with her fingers, over and over again. But when you came and asked her to stop because you were too sensitive, she’d just slap you across your slave face and keep fucking you with her fingers, because you were her slave and it doesn’t matter what slaves want. Would you like that?” Slapping noises filled the room as Dany could only manage an affirmative whimper.

“And then you would start crying because the sensation was too strong, so she’d punish you by seeing what she could put in your arse. She’d love playing with your arse, and I can’t blame her. She’d play a game to see what she could fit. She’d start with one finger, then two, then three, so that you’d feel her inside you the next day even when she wasn’t. After all, it’s important that you always remember you are hers, even when she’s not there.”

Dany’s left hand escaped Jon’s grip and she immediately started rubbing her nub furiously at the thought of belonging to another woman. “Imagine the irony of freeing slaves all across Essos, yet being a slave yourself behind closed doors. But, like you said, it’s not so bad if you can choose your master. Would you choose Missandei as your mistress?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Yes!!!!” Dany cried.

**JON POV**

A while later, Dany curled up beside him. “You’re such a lecher,” she grinned.

“You started it when we were young,” Jon countered. “You kissed me first, you put your tongue in my mouth first, you put my hand on your breast, you—”

“You never would have done it otherwise!” Dany exclaimed.

“That’s because I was terrified. And could you blame me? You were the most beautiful girl in the Seven Kingdoms,” Jon confessed.

“You really thought so?” Dany asked, failing to suppress a rogue grin.

“Then, and now, and forever,” Jon vowed. “You also grabbed my crotch. Gods, what fourteen-year-old girl does that?” Jon reproached light-heartedly.

“That was all Rhaenys’s idea,” Dany deflected.

“I’m not surprised, yet you followed her advice. Speaking of lecher . . .” they both laughed.

“But,” Dany began with a pause, “you were the one who first tied me up, blindfolded me, and dripped hot wax on me, and on our wedding night no less.”

“Well, I had to raise the stakes, wedding nights are important,” Jon explained.

“I was so scared at the beginning, but then to be so vulnerable before you gave me such a thrill. I thought there was something wrong with me for desiring it. But then you wanted me to do the same to you. And I wondered how I could dominate a man so much bigger and stronger?”

“But you did,” Jon smiled.

“I did, but you had to goad me into it. Why was it so important to you?”

“Do you remember my dreams about the Others?” Dany nodded. “Well, I also had another recurring dream, where my lifeless body was carried away by my dragon. I always assumed the two were connected, and that if there was any truth to them, I’d die fighting the Others. So, I knew there was a good chance that you would be the sole ruler one day. And I wanted you to be tough, which you already were. But I also wanted you to feel comfortable barking orders at older men, and not questioning yourself because you were young or a woman.” Jon paused to grin, “And as I am an older man—”

“Jon, gods, you’re only 9 months older,” Dany interrupted.

“Still older,” Jon defended, “I thought I’d be the perfect one to practice on.”

“So, you did it for the realm?” Dany smirked.

“Aye, for the same reason you kissed me that first time. For the realm.” Dany sighed in contentment and repositioned herself against him. “Also, the thought of you dominating me makes me hard. As does the thought of me dominating you. Really, just any thought of you. I’m a simple man,” Jon admitted to Dany’s laughter.

They heard a noise, and Raven raised his black head. It was times like these that Jon missed Ghost. _But hopefully my new pup will be up to the task of protecting us one day_. Jon and Dany swapped stories for a while longer, laughing at some of the things they used to do, until Jon reached the end of a particular story and was met with only the sound of Dany’s soft snoring. He kissed the top of his Queen’s head and closed his eyes.

**DANY POV**

She and Jon had separated for a few weeks in their quest for allies. Jon and Sam flew to Braavos who, because of its ardent opposition to slavery, would be their most natural ally. Jon was meeting with the Sealord of Braavos, and she was a little jealous since she had always wanted to hear the Titan roar. More importantly, Jon was also meeting with the Iron Bank. Funding was important for a war effort spanning an entire continent, and the combination of the Seven Kingdoms’ good credit and cause would hopefully win the Iron Bank to their side. Dany made sure to give Jon plenty of advice based on her dealings with Iron Bank representatives while she was the sole ruler, though of course Jon had plenty of experience negotiating with them during the first 14 years of his reign. And she always said he haggled like a fishwife.

Jon was also going to the House of Black and White to strike some contracts with the Faceless Men. After all, conquering a city is easier than maintaining it, and they knew that they would likely face significant resistance from former masters. But if they could systematically target the resistance leaders, it would make lasting peace much more feasible. Arya had trained at the House of Black and White for a few years in her youth and said they’d be receptive to potential deals. But of course, such deals cost money, which is another reason getting the Iron Bank on their side would be so important.

She, on the other hand, was returning from Myr, who had tentatively accepted her alliance offer subject to additional negotiations to iron out the details. Though Myr practiced slavery, they were still a desirable ally. She told the Myrish the Seven Kingdoms would help them in their perpetual conflicts with Tyrosh and Lys over the Disputed Lands in exchange for Myr freeing their slaves over a one-year period and training other freed slaves to make carpets, lenses, lace, and stilettos. With Braavos, Pentos, and Myr on their side, they’d have a stronghold in northwest Essos from which to launch their campaign to end slavery. Further, having an alliance with one-third of the Free Cities would hopefully make the other Free Cities hesitant to move against them once they began conquering Slaver’s Bay.

As time was of the essence, Dany had traveled by dragon to Myr, accompanied only by Missandei and two kingsguard: Ser Oswell and Ser Arys. Now, as they were returning to Pentos, she looked forward to meeting with Jon and hearing about how his trip to Braavos had gone.

A burning sound ripped her from her thoughts, like a thousand screams melting into one. Rhaegal started descending and ignored her attempts to get him to continue flying. He landed on the beach where more than a dozen men and an anchored ship were waiting for them. One of the men was holding a black horn banded with red gold, as large as a man. _That must’ve been what made that awful burning sound that I felt in my bones_.

Another man approached her. He was handsome, with dark hair and an eye patch, and the armor he wore seemed to shimmer as he sauntered up to her. “You must be the Dragon Queen,” he smiled. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Who are you and what have you done to my dragon?” Dany demanded.

“My name is Euron Greyjoy,” he professed. Dany squinted her eyes. _No, according to Asha he would be much older than me, yet he doesn’t look a day over 30_. “And your dragon is now under my command. You see, this horn is called dragonbinder, and when a dragon hears it, he becomes a slave to the horn’s master, which is me,” he grinned.

“A dragon is not a slave! Dracarys!” Dany yelled, but Rhaegal did not move.

“Everyone has a master, even dragons,” Euron threatened. “Dracarys, you say? So the dragons understand Valyrian commands? That makes sense. Well, let’s see,” Euron looked at Rhaegal and then pointed to Ser Oswell and Ser Arys, who had drawn their swords. “Dracarys!” Euron ordered.

“No!!!!” Dany screamed, but it was too late. Rhaegal spit a stream of fire, engulfing her kingsguard in flames. Euron laughed maniacally. Dany was afraid, but she was also a dragon, so she stared at Euron without blinking. “You just guaranteed your own death. My husband will come for me.”

“And why should I fear him? I’ll just use my horn to take command of his dragon as well,” Euron swaggered over to Missandei. “And what do we have here? I think I’m going to enjoy this one,” he smiled sinisterly.

“No, you shouldn’t do that. You see, she was a pleasure slave for many years,” Dany began.

“I don’t mind if they’re broken in a little,” Euron started running his hands over Missandei’s breasts.

“No, you don’t understand. One of the hundreds of men that fucked her gave her some disease, and now anyone who sleeps with her gets it, too. The disease made her former master’s cock break out in boils, and that’s why he had her repeatedly whipped. Look at her back if you don’t believe me.”

Euron ripped Missandei’s clothes and gazed at her scars, a look of disappointment on his face. But then he turned to her, “Well, I guess that means she’ll just watch while I take you. I’ve already made one dragon my slave today, and tonight I’ll enslave another,” he gave a wicked grin. Euron wrapped his hand around her throat, causing her to tense, and leaned into her so that his mouth was against her ear. “I’m anxious to find out whether you cry out in the common tongue or Valyrian when you get fucked.”

She ripped off a chuck of his ear and spit it in his face. He instinctively slapped her hard, causing a tooth to fly out of her mouth. “You fucking bitch! I’m going to enjoy making you my whore,” he sneered. “And you,” he turned to Missandei, “you’re going to watch every second.”

**JOHN POV**

After Dany didn’t arrive in Pentos for a few days, Jon headed to Myr to find her. He wanted to fly straight to Myr but could tell that Lyannaxes wanted to hug the coast, so he did, as he always trusted her instincts. Eventually he saw a dragon in the distance following closely to a ship. As he came upon the ship, Rhaegal started hissing at them, which he had never done before. _Something must be wrong_.

Just then a man with an eye patch started laughing loudly. “This must be the famed Dragon King! It is truly a pleasure to meet you! You will always have my gratitude for sending your wife to me.” Jon looked and saw Dany and Missandei being ushered next to him, their hands bound. “I’ve enjoyed her quite a bit. And I believe she’s enjoyed me, too. Well, at least based on the amount of squealing she has done the past few days. You see, she’s obviously not used to having such a big cock inside her, and she said she couldn’t handle it at first. But eventually, I got it to fit and within seconds she was moaning like a little slut. I admit, it has been fun making the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms into my personal whore. Though it’ll be even more fun killing the King. So, here’s what we are going to do. You are going to land on the ship and get down from your dragon and command your dragon to fly away. If you don’t,” the man took out a knife and held it to Dany’s throat, “I’ll kill her.”

 _He must be in control of Dany’s dragon somehow_. Jon looked at Dany and Missandei. While Missandei was fearful, Dany looked resolute, despite the knife that was against her throat. _She believes in me. I won’t let her down_.

Jon flew Lyannxes down and stepped off, and then told her to leave. She hesitated, but after he insisted, she obeyed. Jon then turned back to the man with the eye patch, who removed the knife from Dany’s throat and took a few steps towards Jon. “Don’t worry, the Queen will make a wonderful salt wife, and mother to my children. I’ve already put a baby in her, no doubt,” his grin was pure evil.

Suddenly, Jon was looking down at the man, as he rambled about Dany. Then the man stopped his rant, “Wife, what is wrong with the King’s eyes? He looks possessed!” The man laughed, though the rest of the crew remained perfectly silent. “Oh well, possessed or not, they all die the same.” He pointed towards Jon’s body, “Dracarys!” He then looked up at Jon. “Dracarys!” He became angry, though his expression soon turned to fear when he realized what was happening. 

“Oh,” was the last word he ever said.

**DANY POV**

Dany held Jon tight, determined to never let go. They were back in their bed in Pentos. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve never left your side. I should’ve demanded that you travel with the fleet. Gods, I’m such a fool.”

“It’s not your fault,” she assured him, though she hoped he would stop blaming himself soon because she did not have the energy to keep assuaging his guilt.

“I want you to visit Sam in the morning, he will likely have medicine that can help with the pain,” Jon continued to worry. “And he can get you some moon tea as well.”

“The moon tea won’t be necessary, Euron wasn’t nearly as successful as he claimed,” she noticed Jon open his mouth as if to ask a question, but she stopped him. “Jon, just hold me right now, no talking.”

“Of course,” he kissed the top of her head and squeezed her tight.

After several minutes she was ready to talk. She looked up at Jon, her cheeks stained with tears. “What are you thinking about?”

“I’m just worried about you, and I’m furious,” he said with a pained look.

She smiled sadly, _her champion_. “Well, I know it sounds crazy, but I’m thinking about how I want to be with you right now, despite everything, but I can’t, I still need to heal.”

She studied his reaction carefully and noticed the slight grimace that he tried to suppress. “Of course, my love,” he kissed her again and then suddenly jumped out of bed and vomited in a nearby chamber pot.

She sat up in the bed. “You’re disgusted with me?!” she accused.

“No,” Jon spit a few times and hesitated to make sure there was no more coming. He moved the chamber pot away, rinsed his mouth, and came back to bed. He grabbed her hands and looked her directly in the eye, “No. I’m disgusted with the situation, but not you. How could I be?”

“Because you just vomited at the thought of being with me,” she removed her hands from his clasp and pulled her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs.

“Stop. You know that isn’t true. I’m just feeling a lot of strong emotions right now. The thought of what he did to you . . . I’m trying not to think about it because it makes me angry and disgusted, but I can’t help it,” Jon admitted. He then looked at her, “I’m here for you, for whatever you need. I want to help however I can. Just please tell me what you need me to do and I’ll do it.”

“Are things different now?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you see me any different now? Am I soiled?”

“Of course not. How could I ever think that?! And if you’re soiled, then I’m soiled, after all I was fucking murdered,” Jon sighed. “But remember what you said? We both have physical and emotional scars, and we’re both broken, but we’re broken together, and that’s all that matters.”

“But you’re acting different.”

“Well, I’m feeling a lot of emotions right now.”

“You don’t desire me anymore. When you look at me, all you can think about is what happened, and that disgusts you. So, you can’t even stand to look at me anymore!” Dany began crying.

“Dany, I can never stop desiring you.” He reached for her, but she shrugged him off.

“I don’t want you to be here. I don’t want to be with someone who’s disgusted with me. Go away!”

“Dany, stop this,” Jon tried to console her.

“I said go, Jon!” she yelled.

An anger washed over his face as he got up and slammed the door. She curled up with a pillow and wept. _I can no longer say I’ve been with only Jon. He took that from me. That bastard stole that from me! But other people have that taken from them when they’re still girls. And they’re never allowed to meet their Jon, or to choose who to love. I need to be strong, for them_.

After a short time, a soft knock at the door broke her from her thoughts. “Come in,” she said.

“May I lie next to you?” Jon asked delicately. She didn’t answer, but he did anyways. “Dany, I want to be here for you, for whatever you need. I can’t even begin to imagine what you went through. So, I want to be here for you, to help you heal however I can. But I’m also going to need a little time. Euron invaded our sacred space, something that had just been ours for most of our lives. And I feel a lot of different emotions right now.”

“Disgust,” Dany spat.

“Yes, but not at you, just at the situation, I promise. Though, I mainly feel anger.”

“I want you to still desire me,” she turned to him with tears in her eyes.

“I will _always_ desire you,” Jon never broke eye contact. “Do you understand? I have desired you with every part of myself since I was ten and will continue to do so until the day I die. Nothing, NOTHING will ever change that,” his eyes began to grow glassy. _He wasn’t lying_.

“Do you want me to tell you what happened?”

Jon sighed, “Part of me doesn’t want to hear about it at all and doesn’t want to ever think about it. Another part of me wants to know every last detail, though I know it’ll cause me nothing but pain to hear.” Jon paused in thought. “So, I’ll just leave it up to you to share what you want in your own time,” he smiled sadly.

“Well, I will say one thing. It was nothing like what he said. I spent most of my time with Missandei. I protected her and made sure nothing happened to her. She’s been through enough, after all. And I did things to make sure it wasn’t pleasurable for him. He gave up after a few tries. He might look young, but he’s quite a bit older than us, and I could tell. Fortunately, instead of getting violent with me, I think he was waiting to procure a drink that would paralyze me. But you came before they could get it. Oh, and I bit off half his ear,” Dany explained as Jon grinned. Then an unbidden smirk crossed her face, “And just know that any damage done to me wasn’t because of the size of Euron’s ship, but the fact that it was on dry land.”

Jon snorted, “Good to know, I guess. Can I hold you?”

“Yes,” she laid her head on his chest as he wrapped his arms around her. “Jon, sing me our song.” Jon sang Dragons in the Godswood while Dany hummed along.

After a long silence, Dany spoke without raising her head. “So, think of all the hurt we’re going through right now, and I was only captured for a few days. There are girls who experience what I experienced every day for their entire lives,” her voice broke.

Jon squeezed her, “Aye. I can’t even imagine.”

“I can’t allow that. I WON’T allow it. At least, not when I have the power to stop it,” her voice was thick with emotion. With Euron’s death, and the dragonbinder’s destruction, Rhaegal was hers again much to her relief. She then looked at him, “Jon, I will not compromise. Before, I would’ve been willing to compensate the masters, or allow for gradual emancipation. Not now. If they refuse to immediately free their slaves, they die. And then we’ll give all their possessions to their former slaves. I mean, even if we just waited 1 year, to allow the masters to get their affairs in order, think of all the suffering we’d allow in that time. I know that slavery won’t truly end for a generation or two, as it’ll likely persist in the shadows. But I want it officially gone, immediately. And I am willing to do whatever it takes to make sure no one else has to ever feel what I felt, including fire and blood,” she vowed. “You may think I’m being too harsh, but that’s how I feel.”

Jon was silent for a while. “Do you remember the one time we met at Riverrun during my years in the North? You told me about Father’s plans to marry us to others. I hated it, but I was going to go along with it because Uncle Ned always talked abut the importance of duty.” Jon snorted, “And you said, ‘fuck duty!’ and that love was the death of duty.”

“I remember, quite vividly,” Dany smiled.

Jon got up and returned with a map of Braavos, a ship schedule, a list of blacksmiths in the City, and a pouch of coins. “What is this?” Dany asked.

“When I first came back to King’s Landing, I planned to elope with you to Braavos. I chose you over duty. I had trained with Mikken during my last few months at Winterfell, and I hoped to eventually support us as a blacksmith. Though, I likely would’ve had to take whatever work I could get when we first arrived.” Dany was shocked, as he had never told her this before. “Of course, once Rhaegar and Egg and Rhaenys died, I had to be king, and we couldn’t leave Grandmother all alone.”

“Of course not,” Dany agreed.

“But,” Jon raised his brow at her, “had Rhaegar lived, I would’ve run away with you.” Dany didn’t know what to say as tears began to pool in her eyes. “So, it wasn’t just the dragons, it was you,” he emphasized. “Fortunately, we never had to run away. But the point is, I was ready to do that if necessary. In the same way, we should be ready to do what it takes to end slavery, with fire and blood even, and just hope it doesn’t come to that. But maybe if we show them what we’re willing to do, we won’t have to do it?”

Jon kissed the top of her head and squeezed her hand three times, as she gave four squeezes back. “With that said,” he continued softly, “take as much time as you need. I needed months after my resurrection to cope with my death, resurrection, duty to stop the Long Night, even my time spent inside Lyannaxes. I was so angry, furious that Tywin would take away your husband from you, take away our kids’ father from them. And then the fact that Mel sacrificed a boy to give me life,” Jon’s voice died and he looked away.

“He’d be proud of what you’ve accomplished in your second life,” Dany assured him. He took off the ring that she had given him during their second wedding that commemorated his second life. On the inside of the ring, Dany had the boy’s name etched: “Rodrik.”

“Aye, I hope so,” Jon said softly after a time. “But we’re going to focus on making sure you heal, in every way possible, before we do anything. Alright?”

“Aye,” Dany agreed, and snuggled into him even more. Then she shot up, “Oh, you never told me how Braavos went.”

“Surprisingly well,” he explained. “The Iron Bank and Faceless Men are going to help us out, both because they see us as the safer bet in the long term, and because they agree with our desire to end slavery.”

“Jon, that’s great!” Dany beamed. “Myr also tentatively agreed to ally with us. If we can make an alliance with three of the Free Cities going into the meeting, we will have a far stronger bargaining position.”

“Aye, I hope so,” Jon smiled. Then he became pensive. “Did you know that, in Braavos, mummers are allowed to openly mock the Sealord and other leaders without fear of reprisal?”

“I did not. But you’ve never been bothered by a bard criticizing you.”

“True, but a future king might. Maybe we should make a law that protects the things people say. I mean, not everything, of course. Like, you shouldn’t be allowed to spread blatant lies about someone to ruin their reputation, or lie to cheat someone out of money, or plot to overthrow the king. But as far as just criticizing the king, or making fun of the king, as annoying as it is, people shouldn’t be thrown in prison for it. I mean, what if what they say is true, and the king is actually bad?”

Dany chuckled at how passionate Jon was for the rights of bards and mummers. “Well, not many criticize you, they’re more likely to write songs about how you’re a god.”

“True. Though, there was that one bard that wrote a song about my long face, remember? ‘His sword must be as long as his face, ‘cause the Queen always has a smile in place,’” Jon sang.

Dany snorted, “That’s one of my favorites!”

Two weeks later Dany and Jon were meeting with a Dothraki Khal named Drogo. He was older, his black hair mixed with grey, with a long moustache and even longer braid full of bells. But despite that, he was still an imposing figure who stood a head taller than his fellow bloodriders. He was flanked by his blonde-haired, copper-skinned sons, the result of his marriage to a Lysene whore more than twenty years earlier. They had been communicating with the Khal through Illyrio’s son and had demanded that the Dothraki stop raping and pillaging. Khal Drogo had yet to answer, aside from demanding this meeting with the “Dragonlords” as he called them.

An interpreter was present, but Khal Drogo knew enough Valyrian that he didn’t need one. After again reiterating their demand that the Dothraki end their brutal attacks on the people of Essos, the Khal started laughing, which prompted his sons and bloodriders to do the same. “I refuse. Dothraki take what ours, what Great Stallion give us.” Raven began to growl. “And I kill mutt and eat him tonight,” he sneered, before looking at Jon, “And I kill you for demand. I am great Khal, no one demand me.” He then looked at Dany lustfully, “Though would enjoy take this one, and then give her to bloodriders when finish, but now too old.”

“Old,” the bloodriders echoed his point and mocked her.

In an instant Jon was upon the Khal, prompting swords and arakhs to be drawn, though the presence of Rhaegal and Lyannaxes caused the bloodriders to back away. Dany began walking towards the bloodriders, “Would you really rape me? Pass me between each of you?” The bloodriders scowled at her, angry yet frightened of the dragons. Behind her she heard Sam’s voice, _Your Grace, he’s dead! He’s dead, Your Grace! Jon, please!_ The bloodriders remained silent and raised their arakhs. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes.’ Dracarys!” In an instant the Khal’s sons and bloodriders were screaming as they were engulfed in flames. And then a few moments later, silence.

She felt Jon’s presence beside her. “Fire and blood?” he asked.

“Aye, fire and blood,” she replied.

**4 Months Later- Lhazar**

“So, we’re safe now?” an older woman asked in a sing-song voice.

“Yes, the Dragon King and Queen killed all the Dothraki,” a younger woman responded, tears filling her almond-shaped eyes.

“Eroeh must’ve convinced them. I always knew she would,” the older woman beamed. “The whole khalasar?”

“Yes, all 100,000,” the younger woman said, amazed.

“Just the two of them?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“The Khal insulted the Queen. It is said that when the King finished with the Khal, he was completely unrecognizable.”

“I wish my husband would do that for me,” the older woman complained, laughing.

“And I heard that when they were raining fire on the khalasar from above, they moved together like they were dancing.”

“Like a dance of dragons?”

“Yes. And not a single soul escaped. But it is strange, afterwards they immediately came back to Pentos without landing, but it is said that they were riding on the same dragon.”

“Why would they be riding on the same dragon? And how? That doesn’t make sense. You shouldn’t believe everything you hear,” the older woman scolded.

**DANY POV**

They had destroyed the khalasar and were heading back to Pentos. It was bittersweet. She didn’t enjoy killing, but she wasn’t sure the Dothraki could ever be convinced to change their ways. And in the meantime, how many people would have continued to be raped, murdered, and sold? A shadow engulfed her as Jon moved Lyannaxes almost directly above. _Well, I could use a little shade_.

Then something dropped from behind, startling her. “What the?!” She glanced back, “Jon, what the seven hells are you doing?! You idiot, you could’ve fallen to your death!” Her heart began to race at the realization.

“I couldn’t wait. I have to have you now,” Jon growled, kissing the back of her neck.

She wouldn’t let him off that easy, “Jon, don’t you ever do that again! Do you hear me? I forbid you from ever doing that again! Gods, how could you—” her scolding slowly faded as Jon continued kissing her neck, his hot breath giving her tingles.

“I’ll never do it again, I promise,” he whispered. “But I couldn’t wait, do you understand? I want you so badly right now.”

Dany inhaled deeply and smiled. “You desire me?”

“Yes, more than you’ll ever know,” Jon’s hand squeezed her breast as his mouth began placing light kisses on her ear. He moved his left hand down to the top of her thigh. _Jon, what are you thinking?_ He continued kissing and massaging her until the pleasure he was giving her consumed her. _Fuck it_. She placed his hand inside her breeches, and his fingers went to work at the invitation. “I want you,” Jon kept repeating over and over until she began trembling, just as Pentos became visible in the distance.

A few days later they were meeting with the leaders of all the Free Cities in Illyrio’s manse. Representing Braavos was the Sealord, with his First Sword, along with some magisters, representatives from the Iron Bank, and a priest from the House of Black and White. The Prince and several powerful magisters spoke for Pentos. Magisters also represented Myr and Lorath, while the First Magister and Gonfaloniere were there for Lys. The bearded priests of Norvos and Qohorik nobles were the most recent arrivals, while the Archon of Tyrosh had already been there for a few days. But the leaders Jon and Dany were the most anxious about were the three Triarchs from Volantis. The seating position reflected the initial alliances, with the leaders of Myr, Pentos, and Braavos sitting with Jon and Dany, while the representatives of Volantis, Tyrosh, and Lys sat on the other side of the room, with the leaders of Lorath, Norvos, and Qohor in the middle.

After Illyrio’s son graciously thanked them all for attending and offered them food and drink, Dany began the meeting. “Thank you all for attending. We are here to talk about the future of Essos. A future in which there is no slavery.”

“What do you know of slavery? There is no slavery in Westeros,” the Archon of Tyrosh sneered.

“You’re wrong,” Jon explained. “I spent a few years with the Wildlings who live north of the Wall. Their shores have been raided by slavers from Tyrosh and other Free Cities for years.” The Archon began to grow pale as Jon stared him down. “And the Queen and I know first-hand the horrors of slavery. You see, the army of the dead that brought the Long Night was a slave army.”

Numerous side conversation permeated the room at Jon’s mention of the Long Night, but he continued. “I had to kill several of my fellow soldiers who died and were raised to join the army of the dead. People who were fighting by your side one minute, were trying to kill you the next. They’d lost their will and were slaves to the Others,” Jon then paused, as if contemplating whether to continue. “I even had to kill members of my own family.” Dany’s eyes grew wide. _He never told me this_. Jon sighed, “We did not tolerate the Others robbing men and women of the peaceful deaths they deserved. In the same way, we will not tolerate masters and slave traders robbing men and women of the peaceful lives they deserve.”

“We heard about what you two did to the Dothraki, and good riddance, I say,” one of the Triarchs stated. “But while you may be nearly invincible on the back of a dragon, you’re not always on the back of a dragon,” he gave a sinister smile. “Many in Slaver’s Bay will try to kill you the second you step off. I worry about backing the losing side,” he took a sip of his wine, as the other leaders nodded and affirmed his words.

“You’re right, we are not invincible. My death showed that,” Jon countered. “But ask what happened to my murderers. My dragon incinerated every last one, then destroyed their castles. All while I was dead. The Queen finished off the rest and won the war for us. Killing me won’t cause our side to lose the war. We’d still have three dragons, and two dragon riders, not to mention other potential dragon riders.”

Jon then gave a knowing smile, “And your fear about what happens when we leave our dragons is completely unfounded.” Jon leaned in, as if telling a secret to the Triarch, though he was on the other side of the room. “You see, we never _leave_ our dragons. The connection never stops. Don’t believe me?” Jon leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands together, twiddling his thumbs. Just then a roar filled the room, causing the glasses to shake. Numerous conversations erupted amongst the leaders.

Then, a man and woman in red robes with face tattoos entered. “Benerro?” one of the Volantene Triarchs questioned. But, instead of sitting with the Triarchs, the two approached Jon and Dany.

“My name is Benerro, and I am the high priest of R’hllor at the Red Temple in Volantis,” the tall, bald man with the flame tattoo introduced himself.

“And I am Kinvara, also a priest at the Red Temple,” the beautiful woman smiled at them.

“It is an honor to finally meet Azor Ahai,” Benerro spoke solemnly, as they both looked at Dany and nodded their heads in deference.

She was confused, “Well, actually Melisandre thought—” Jon’s sharp elbow interrupted her.

“There is no doubt that Daenerys matches the prophecy of Azor Ahai,” Jon agreed with them. “She was reborn amidst salt and smoke and woke dragons from stone when she hatched dragons for the first time in a hundred years from the fires that burned the body of a Targaryen king. You see, fire does not harm her. And she did it all underneath a bleeding star, as a red comet crossed the skies. Also, she killed wights by the thousands from the back of her dragon, Rhaegal, who has been called Balerion the Black Dread Reborn. Tell me, what greater lightbringer is there than a fire-breathing dragon?”

Benerro and Kinvara looked at her with knowing smiles. “Your Grace, the red priests and the Fiery Hand are at your service,” they nodded in obeisance to Dany and sat down.

“I thought the King was Azor Ahai? Didn’t you slay the Others with a flaming sword?” the Prince of Pentos asked.

“It wasn’t flaming, it simply glowed red hot,” Jon clarified. “And yes, there was a red priestess who thought I was. Her name was Melisandre.” Dany noticed Benerro and Kinvara’s faces grow cold at the mention of Jon’s red priestess.

“And you were even reborn when you were resurrected,” the Prince continued.

“But there was no salt or smoke,” Benerro contended.

“Well, I don’t know about salt, but there was definitely smoke,” Jon corrected. “You see, in the days following my resurrection, after the initial shock wore off, I asked Melisandre how she resurrected me, in case we needed to do something like that again. She hesitated to give details, but when pressed, admitted that she sacrificed a boy from one of the local villages to bring me back. When she confessed, I sentenced her to death. I had never seen her so scared. She begged me to delay the sentence until after the Long Night, because she swore she had a role to play. So I did, and I don’t regret doing so. Not only did she help us prepare, she cast a spell before the battle that caused most of our army’s swords to erupt in flames to help kill wights. Despite that, I was still going to carry out my sentence the day after the fighting was done. But she killed herself before I had the chance. She took off the ruby necklace she always wore and slowly broke apart, until she was nothing but a pile of ash, scattered in the wind.”

Puzzled faces met Jon’s explanation. “What’s the life of a single boy to resurrect the promised prince and save thousands?” a magister from Myr asked, and others agreed.

“Everything. At least, that’s what my Hand would say, and I think he’s right,” Jon answered.

Dany added, “We understand giving up one life to save thousands. But the point is, if you would hesitate to give up your own life to save thousands, or the lives of your children, you should also hesitate to give up the life of some village boy you don’t know. _Every life has worth_. That single idea is the foundation upon which the King and I have built our movement to end slavery in Essos.”

“You speak of foundations, but Essos is built on the foundation of slave labor. If you take that away, everything collapses, and everyone suffers, not just the masters,” another Triarch argued.

Dany steeled herself, as she had contemplated this very point numerous times. “Things will get tough, there is no doubt. But I am not only concerned with those that are currently living. I’m also concerned with the lives of millions who have yet to be born. When you broaden your view of who is worth caring about, not only master, but slave, not only those from the present, but those from the future, you realize that ending slavery now is the only right choice.”

She turned to Jon, who was looking at her the same way he did when she hatched dragons all those years ago. She then looked around the room, and a bow and arrow being carried by one of the guards caught her eye. “It’s just like how an arrow has to first be moved back before it can shoot forward. So too, we will likely take a few steps back due to instability and war before we begin to make progress. That’s acceptable, and to be expected. Slavery won’t truly end overnight, or in a year, or in 10 years. It will take generations. But as the War for the Dawn showed," she smiled at Jon, "my husband is no summer king. He and I are committed for the rest of our lives, and our children and grandchildren will be just as committed.”

Dany took a deep breath, and grabbed Jon’s hand, before slowly scanning the faces of all the leaders. “You asked what we knew of slavery. Well, I have met slaves, including my personal advisor, Missandei, whose back is crisscrossed with scars from her master’s whip. But I also know a little of what it’s like to be a slave. You see, recently, I was captured and raped by a madman. I had hope though, because I knew my champion would come for me,” she squeezed Jon’s hand. “But there are thousands of women who go through what I went through every day for their entire lives. But unlike me, they don’t have hope. They don’t have a champion that they expect will come and rescue them. So, I will be their champion, even if it means remaking the world with fire.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Dany bring fire and blood to Essos, and then return to Westeros.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Though Jon and Dany will accomplish a lot of good this chapter, they will also act very dark. The events in chapter 5 have caused them to move from a 5 on the fire and blood scale, to a 9 or 10. However, the ending will still be quite fluffy.

**JON POV**

“Are you sure about this?” Jon worried. 

Dany was resolute, “Yes. If they need a god to tell them to claim their freedom, I will be their god.” The Triarchs had offered gradual emancipation with heavy compensation to the masters for their “lost property.” Jon and Dany likely would have compromised with them originally. Volantis was quite powerful, after all. But not anymore. Dany refused their offer and demanded immediate emancipation. Eventually, and after a few more well-timed roars from Lyannaxes, the Triarchs agreed. 

But Dany would make sure the masters of Volantis couldn’t go back on their promises of freedom once Jon and Dany moved on to Slaver’s Bay. So, she stepped forward into the flames, as Benerro proclaimed to all the Volantenes assembled that Azor Ahai had come to deliver them. She emerged naked, bald, and fiercely beautiful. Jon immediately clothed her in a red robe. Flame, fly, tear, and stripe-tattooed faces stared back at her in awe.

“I am Azor Ahai, the Unburnt, who defeated the darkness with fire. But I am not finished defeating the darkness, and you will help me, by rising up and claiming your freedom. I cannot claim it for you, you must do it for yourselves. If Azor Ahai is for you, who can be against you? Rise up! Be Free!” Dany’s ringing voice was drowned out by the sound of deafening cheers. 

In Volantis, slaves outnumbered free men five to one. So, once the slave uprising occurred, the Old Blood had no choice but to keep their word about immediate abolition. And with the Volantene slave uprising, not to mention the threat of Myrish forces, both Lys and Tyrosh followed through on their promise to promptly free their slaves. Then once the main slave-holding Free Cities ended slavery, Lorath, Norvos, and Qohor quickly followed, their proximity to Braavos no doubt contributing to their decision. 

The Golden Company contracted to secure Tyrosh and Lys, courtesy of the Iron Bank’s financial support. And additional sellsword companies, the Company of the Rose and the Wolf Pack, agreed to help protect the former slaves in the southern Free Cities for reduced compensation. _Stark blood runs through my veins, and the veins of my children_ , Jon told them pointing to his direwolf. _If you help protect the newly freed, I will allow you to return to your ancestral homes in the North of Westeros_. Raven’s bark caused the sellswords to chuckle and sealed the deal as both companies swore fealty to Jon. 

Former slaves were segregated in a portion of the cities where they could be protected from their former masters. The former masters were taxed to provide food for their former slaves, as well as to help repay some of the Iron Bank loans used to hire the sellsword companies to protect the newly freed. Former slaves that so desired could contract with their former masters and continue to perform their previous work. Such a policy was fraught with the potential for abuse, but it was still a good first step. The slaves who suffered the most abuse were now protected from their former masters, while the ones who freely chose to work for their former masters would hopefully only do so because they were treated relatively well. 

With the situation in the Free Cities stable, Jon and Dany made for Astapor with their Westerosi fleet. They both decided that Dany should control things in their chambers for the foreseeable future. And with the way she was acting, Jon wasn’t sure she’d ever give it up.

“You better not come before me and get soft before I finish. Do you hear me, little King?” Dany slapped Jon hard across the face. She had tied his arms and legs and was furiously riding him, causing her bald head to begin to glisten.

“Yes . . . my Queen,” Jon choked.

Dany grabbed Jon’s hair and leaned close, “Good boy.” She licked his face, slowly, almost as if daring him to stop her. She rode him and rubbed herself faster and faster until she let out a loud moan. 

“Alright, little King, ready to come for your Queen?” Dany asked as she untied him.

“Yes, Muna.” 

“Get on your hands and knees. Let me see that beautiful arse,” Dany commanded, spanking him hard once he got into position. She did a few more for good measure. Jon couldn’t see her, but he could feel her sinister grin. He heard her put oil on her hands, then she started running her fingernail along the outside of his arse. Jon moaned when she sunk a finger inside.

“Do you like that, little King?” Dany teased. Jon whimpered affirmatively, then began to moan as she started pumping her finger inside him. “If I had a cock, I bet you’d beg me to fuck you. You’d like to be taken by your wife, wouldn’t you?” She started stroking his cock. “I bet I’d make you scream like a whore. Would you like to be fucked by your wife’s cock? Answer me!” Dany growled. 

“Yesssssss!” Jon groaned as he came. 

“Gods, Jon. You always do this. The second I start to play with you you make a mess and I have to stop. Well, I can’t have you going soft on me. I still want to play with my favorite toy. Lie down on your back again,” she ordered. It wasn’t long before she had tied him up again so he couldn’t move. She straddled his face, “You better pay attention carefully to my directions. It could be the difference between life or death. You will lick my cunt for one minute without stopping. If I’m satisfied with your efforts, I’ll let you breathe for 10 seconds, before resuming again. However, if your tongue stops lapping for even a second, or is not enthusiastic in its worship of me, your time starts over and you will have to perfectly please me for another minute to earn the right to breathe. Understood?”

“Yes, my Qu—” Dany muffled his words before he could finish. He immediately went to work, and the first minute passed quicker than he thought it would. Being completely at her mercy caused him to grow stiff again, almost painfully so. He knew he was pleasing his Queen when she started grinding on his face, further coating him with her juices. 

Suddenly, he felt cool air as Dany moved from his face to sink down on to his cock. “Gods,” she whimpered and grabbed her breasts as she started slowly moving her hips. She closed her eyes and furrowed her brow, concentrating on the sensation. After a few moments, her eyes flew open and her nostrils flared. “You’re nothing but a cock to me, do you understand?” she growled. 

“Yes, Muna.”

“As such, you are no longer allowed to speak. You will simply follow me around in silence until I am ready for your cock, though sometimes I will just leave you in my chambers tied spread-eagle to the bed to use you when I choose. Would you like that, little Nephew?”

“Yes, Aunt.”

Jon felt a sting on his face from Dany’s slap. “No talking!” He nodded. “The rest of the night, you will not utter a single word. Your only purpose is to serve your Queen. And from now on, I will do the negotiating, I will do the conquering, I will do the ruling. Your job is to just be my pleasure toy. Got it?”

“Yes,” he regretted his answer even before the slap. He nodded.

After they both peaked, Dany lied on top of him with Jon still inside her. He could feel her heart pounding. “That was,” Jon furrowed his brow trying to describe what just happened.

Dany raised her head from his chest. “You _are_ my favorite toy,” she grinned. 

“Aye, I’m glad you enjoy me,” they laughed.

“It felt good walking through the fire. It was purifying,” Dany said after a brief silence. 

“I can imagine,” Jon smiled sadly. “How does it feel to be a god?” his smile grew bigger.

“I don’t know, why don’t you tell me?” she teased.

**DANY POV**

“We need to figure out a way to save the Unsullied,” Jon stated after the masters of Astapor refused to free their slaves. They both had read about the Three Thousand of Qohor as children. “It would be a tragedy if they perished in dragon fire along with their masters, yet they are trained from birth to obey so they will never abandon their post, no matter how futile the situation.”

“I have a plan,” Dany stated matter-of-factly. “I’ll trade Rhaegal for all of the Unsullied.”

Jon looked confused, “You don’t think they’d be that stupid?”

“I think there is a very good chance they will be,” Dany smirked. 

Jon, Dany, and Missandei left their armies outside the Red City walls and entered the Plaza of Pride atop their walking dragons. There, they encountered the famed Unsullied, controlled by Missandei’s former master, Kraznys mo Nakloz. He became enraged when he saw Missandei, but quickly called off any attack when he noticed Rhaegal’s snarl. He was surrounded by Unsullied and multiple scorpions, though they were somewhat crude compared to what the Lannisters had used against them. Kraznys had amber skin, dark eyes, and wiry reddish-black hair. He also wore a tokar like the other freeborn men in Astapor.

“Thank you for agreeing to meet with us to discuss a potential bargain. I have come to strike a deal,” Dany began. “I will trade you a dragon for all of the Unsullied.”

Kraznys laughed haughtily, and those around him laughed as well, however they soon began whispering. Kraznys raised his hand and the whispering stopped. “Dragons can be killed with scorpions, but Unsullied are far harder to kill, and are absolutely fearless. Shall I give you a demonstration?”

“That will not be necessary,” Dany said flatly, trying to maintain her composure as she knew well what the Unsullied had already been subjected to. 

“And why would you be willing to part with a dragon?” Kraznys was skeptical.

“Because we already have three dragons, but no Unsullied. Here, they’re quite easy to control as long as you use this whip,” she took out a long, black whip, and made a show of guiding Lyannaxes in a circle, even shooting fire into the air. Jon made sure to close his eyes so Kraznys wouldn’t suspect anything. “But it’s very important that you use THIS whip. No other whips will work on this dragon.”

Kraznys was silent for a minute, but then continued his act. “Your offer does not even take into account how you stole my slave from me,” he glared at Missandei. “And despite stealing my slave, you further insult me by offering me the smallest dragon.”

Dany made sure to look conflicted. “Fine, you may have the largest dragon. But you must use THIS whip instead if you wish to control him,” she took out a brown whip. The greed in Kraznys’s eyes told her she had won.

“Deal,” he said. 

Later, Jon and Dany made their way to the Plaza of Punishment where all 10,000 Unsullied were assembled. 

Dany handed the whip to Kraznys, who then handed her his own whip he called the “harpy’s fingers” to signify her control of the Unsullied. While Kraznys hesitated at trying to control the giant beast, Dany made her way over to the Unsullied. 

“It is done!” she cried at the top of her lungs. “You are mine! You are bought and paid for! It is done! It is done!”

She turned her attention back to Kraznys, who had worked up the courage to lightly whip Rhaegal a few times. Rhaegal simply stared at the man, _almost as if he pities Kraznys_ , Dany smirked. “You are having difficulty,” she observed. 

“He is not obeying,” Kraznys complained. 

“There is a reason. A dragon is not a slave.” Dany swept the harpy’s fingers as hard as she could across the slaver’s face, causing Kraznys to scream and stagger back, blood running down his face. “Rhaegal,” she sang. “Dracarys.”

The Good Masters began shrieking and tripping over the fringes of their tokars as Rhaegal and Lyannaxes began lighting up the plaza. 

Dany climbed atop Rhaegal. “Unsullied! Slay the Good Masters, slay the soldiers, slay every man who wears a tokar or holds a whip, but harm no child under twelve, and strike the chains off every slave you see.” She flung the harpy’s fingers aside. “Freedom!”

She looked at Jon, who was not on Lyannaxes but was on the ground, Dark Sister in hand, slaying slavers with a blood-spattered face and a wild look in his eyes.

“Every man who wears a tokar?” Sam asked, a worried look on his face. 

“No children under the age of twelve were harmed,” Dany reassured. 

“Do thirteen and fourteen-year-olds wear tokars?” Sam delicately pressed. 

“Sam, you should have seen the Plaza of Punishment. It is filled with wooden platforms where slaves are racked, flayed, and hanged. It is the first thing new slaves see when entering the city,” Jon defended. 

“Yes, that truly is terrible,” Sam conceded, though it was clear something was still bothering him. 

“Your Grace,” Missandei politely interrupted, “I’d like you to meet someone. This is Grey Worm, the leader of the Unsullied.”

“A pleasure to meet you,” Dany smiled, and Jon likewise welcomed him.

The clean-shaven soldier nodded his head solemnly, “This one is honored to meet you both, and grateful that you set him free.”

She and Jon assembled a council to rule Astapor once they departed. They left two thousand Unsullied and the Windblown sellsword company to keep the peace on a long-term basis, while a few thousand Westerosi soldiers and a few lordlings would help with the transition in the short term. 

They next sailed their fleet up to Yunkai who, in anticipation of their arrival, had hired two sellsword companies: the Second Sons and the Stormcrows. They decided to treat with the captains of the sellsword companies, as well as the Yunkish envoy outside of the Yellow City.

They met first with the captain of the Stormcrows, Daario Naharis. His beard was cut into three prongs and died blue to match his eyes and the curly hair that fell to his shoulders. He had a gold mustachio, and his clothes were various shades of yellow. The lines around his eyes told Dany that he was older, but he was still handsome, and had the swagger of a younger man. 

She had expected a negotiation, but instead the captain just gave a gold-toothed grin. “The Stormcrows are yours, and so is Daario Naharis!”

“Why have you come to our side? You were hired by Yunkai,” Dany questioned.

“Because you are so beautiful,” he grinned, his hands resting on the pommels of his arakh and stiletto, their hilts a matched pair of golden women, naked and wanton.

Dany smirked, “I am happily married. And if you value your life, you would do well not to anger my husband.” 

Daario didn’t look at Jon but continued gazing at her with his blue eyes. “I know, they say your husband is the most powerful man in the world,” he grinned, “but love makes a man do crazy things.”

She heard Jon exhale strongly. _Daario, you damn fool, you’re going to get yourself killed. And I wouldn’t enjoy that. Despite his bravado, there is something endearing about the man. Most are intimidated by me and look to their feet more often than my eyes when addressing me. But not him. And I like that_. She heard Raven begin to growl. _But I also have to save him from my husband before Daario promises more than his love to me_.

“Thank you, Captain. The King and I will discuss your offer of allegiance and we will inform you when we reach a decision,” Dany stated diplomatically. Daario bowed and swept out. 

“No.”

“Jon—” Dany began.

“No,” Jon was emphatic. “We don’t need him or the Stormcrows. I don’t like the way he was undressing you with his eyes, or the way he was rubbing the naked women on the hilt of his swords.”

“I didn’t notice,” Dany lied. Jon huffed. “We will talk about it later,” she tried to move on. “Who is next?”

“Mero, the Commander of the Second Sons,” Grey Worm announced. A tall man with a bushy reddish-gray beard entered, sneering at her and Jon. “I was told I was meeting with a Targaryen King and Queen, so I expected to see some long, flowing silver hair. Instead, I see a woman with barely any hair at all, and a man with brown hair. Are you sure you’re a Targaryen?” he asked Jon. “Well, maybe you are, and you just happen to look like your whore mother,” Titan’s Bastard snickered. _Oh gods_.

“Outside,” Jon said and left the tent, and Mero scoffed and followed. Dany left the tent just in time to see Jon approach a group of Second Sons officers. “If you have anything you need to say to your commander, you need to say it now,” Jon spoke with a command that masked his inner rage. “Your commander called my mother a whore,” Jon clarified in response to the officers’ confused looks. They began talking nervously amongst themselves. 

“What are you blabbering about?” the Braavosi questioned. 

“I challenge you to a duel. To the death,” Jon stated matter-of-factly. 

Mero’s eyes widened, but he quickly tried to mask his fear with a haughty laugh. “As much as I’d love ending your life so I could fuck the Queen in your place, I’m afraid I only brought a knife with me.”

Jon unsheathed Dark Sister quickly, causing everyone to step back in fear. “Jon,” Dany called, beginning to worry. 

But Jon merely held the sword up for Mero to take. “It’s Valyrian Steel. It should suffice.”

Mero looked shocked, but then regained his composure. “Well now you don’t have a sword. And, again, as much as I’d enjoy killing you, it wouldn’t be as fun if the fight wasn’t fair.” 

“I don’t need a sword. I’m going to kill you with my bare hands,” Jon spoke as if he were telling Sam what he ate to break his fast. 

“Jon!” Dany yelled, getting scared. Mero looked as if he had seen a ghost. “Ready?” Jon asked. Mero nodded uncertainly. 

Jon sprinted directly at Mero, causing the Commander to defend with a haphazard swing which was easily side-stepped by Jon, who then tackled the Braavosi to the ground. The two struggled for a few seconds before Jon popped back up, Dark Sister in hand. Mero clutched his throat and flailed on the ground. The confusion was quickly remedied when the Second Sons officers saw the blood running down Jon’s chin as he spit a chunk of flesh in their direction. 

Jon stared down the sellswords, “Does anyone else have something to say about my mother?” Jon’s question was met with silence. Moments later, the commander stopped moving forever. 

Dany was livid with Jon, even when the Second Sons switched their allegiance to their side after Jon’s display of dominance. But she had to put her anger aside because the Yunkish envoy entered their tent. He clearly had heard about Mero because he was too scared to even look in Jon’s general direction. He offered them gold, a gift from the Wise Masters of Yunkai, but Jon refused and demanded that they free their slaves immediately or die. 

The envoy was stubborn, “The walls of our Yellow City are strong, our slave army fierce, and our scorpions deadly. We shall see your dragons coming from a mile away and take them down before they even get close. Then our armies will rain arrows down on yours from our impenetrable walls. And you shall return to Westeros on empty ships. What will your loyal subjects say then, when they learn that their sons are dead because of your folly?”

“Do you really think you’ll see us coming from a mile away?” Jon asked. Just then Raven, who was now the size of a large dog, jumped on the envoy from behind, causing him to stumble over the chest of gold. 

“You swore I’d have safe conduct!” the envoy complained. 

“Do all the Yunkai’i whine over a dog who merely wants to be pet?” Dany asked. “If you’re scared of wolves, maybe you’d prefer our dragons? Though they can also be quite demanding,” she smirked. She wrinkled her nose. “You’ve soiled yourself. Take your gold and go and see that the Wise Masters hear our message.”

But before the envoy could even make it back to the city, she and Jon were flying overhead on their dragons. They soared over the City, yelling for the slave soldiers to open the gates to gain their freedom. Not a single scorpion bolt was fired. Soon, the city gates swung open and a line of slaves emerged. They gazed at Dany in awe. “Mhysa! Mhysa!”

That night, Jon and Dany were resting inside one of the city’s golden pyramids. They were curled up together, fondly speculating about what their children were likely doing at that very moment, when Dany remembered. “What the fuck were you thinking, Jon?” Dany spat. “You could’ve been killed, and then I wouldn’t have a husband, our children wouldn’t have a father, and our grandchild wouldn’t have a grandfather. And for what?”

Dany stopped when she saw the anguish on Jon’s face. She held his hand. “My love, I understand you need to protect your mother’s honor, but for the sake of the gods, just use Lyannaxes. What better way to honor your mother than to have her namesake destroy those who curse her?” She smiled, but Jon continued to brood. 

Eventually, he spoke. “Do you know the first man I killed? I was sixteen and overheard someone in a White Harbor tavern say that my mother killed thousands because she couldn’t keep her legs shut. I challenged him to a duel. Robb tried to stop me but gave up when he saw that his efforts were futile. Killing him didn’t make me feel better. But I felt like it was my duty to protect my mother’s name from dishonor. You see, I killed her, so the least I can do is defend her honor from time to time.”

“Stop that, Jon! I will not hear anymore of that nonsense. Look at me!” Dany demanded, but Jon looked away. “Look at me!” Jon eventually obeyed. “You did not kill your mother. Women die in childbirth all the time. It’s just something that happens that we have no control of. And I can guarantee you that she doesn’t see it that way. I know she would’ve sacrificed her life to bring you into this world if she had the choice. You remember what Rhaegar said in his letters to Maester Aemon? She adored you! She’d sing you Northern songs and her and Rhaegar would imagine what you’d look like and how you’d act.” Jon learned more about his mother from Rhaegar’s letters than he ever did from Rhaegar personally. Her brother simply found it too painful to talk about Lyanna, particularly to Jon. However, before Rhaegar left to see Viserys in Essos, he gave Jon the locket he always wore with a miniature portrait of Lyanna inside. Not even Elia could convince him not to wear it, so they were surprised when, after Elia’s death, he gave it to Jon. _It was almost as if he knew he might not return from Essos_. 

“I talk to her every day,” Jon admitted. “I tell her everything important that’s going on, and even the unimportant things, but she still listens,” Jon smiled sadly. “I feel like I know her as well as almost anyone, but I actually have no idea if the version of her I’ve created in my mind is anything like the real her,” Jon confessed. He looked to Dany, “Do you think I’m mad?”

“No, just overflowing with love, which is never a bad thing,” and Dany meant it. She kissed his forehead and hugged him tightly. _One of my most important duties in life is to cheer up my broody nephew, and I’ll do it happily until the day I die_. 

The next evening, she decided to cheer Jon up in a different way. Missandei told her about the Qartheen dresses that bare a breast and helped procure one for her. She donned the dress and walked into Jon’s room. 

“I am going to treat with the Captain of the Stormcrows, Daario Naharis. I shouldn’t be gone too long, but don’t wait up for me.”

Jon stared at her in shock, “What in seven hells are you wearing?”

Dany rolled her eyes, “Jon, this is how the women of Qarth dress. Nudity is not shameful in Essos.”

“You’re not from Qarth, and we’re not even in Qarth. There is absolutely no excuse for you to bare your breast to the entire world!”

“I won’t bare it to the entire world, just Daario,” Dany countered. Jon stood up angrily from his chair and marched right up to her face.

“No. The only men who have seen you naked besides me are either maesters, or dead. And I want to keep it that way. Don’t make me kill our potential ally.”

“Jon, you’re being a Northern prude,” she turned to leave. 

Jon grabbed her arm and spun her around. “Stop! You’re being ridiculous.”

“Jon, I am allowed to wear whatever I want, and you can’t stop me,” Dany defied, raising her brow and crossing her arms.

“No,” Jon growled. 

“It’s not your decision,” she refused to back down.

Jon’s eyes were a storm of conflicting emotions. “You can’t goad me like this and not expect me to take control. It’s not fair. You’re baiting me,” he sneered.

Dany grinned, “Maybe I am. And maybe I want you to take control.”

Jon’s face shifted from anger to concern. “Are you sure? Are you ready?”

“I think so,” Dany said. 

Jon nodded and exhaled deeply. “Alright, tell me again what you’re going to do.”

Dany steeled herself, “I’m going to treat with Daario Naharis with my breast bared and there’s not a damn thing you can do to stop--.”

Jon shoved her against the wall and crashed his lips into hers. He grabbed her short hair and tugged while he drove his tongue into her mouth, refusing to relent until she was gasping for air. “Who do you belong to?” he growled.

Dany shook her head. _He’ll have to earn it_. 

He pinned her arms over her head and bit her neck. _Gods, he doesn’t fight fair_. He grabbed her bare breast, causing her to moan.

“Who do you belong to?” he sneered.

Dany took a moment to compose herself as her heart was pounding. But she managed to shake her head again. His eyes grew dark and she knew exactly what was coming next. He ripped her dress and picked her up, throwing her on the couch. He took off his breeches and she instinctively spread her legs at the sight of his erect cock. 

He took her roughly, possessively. He continued to ask her who owned her. She stopped shaking her head but still somehow managed to remain silent. But then he increased his speed, thrusting deeper and deeper and deeper, at which point she finally gave in. 

“I’m yours! All yours! Only yours! Only Jon!” she gasped. 

The next day, she and Jon would be dealing with the defeated slavers. They were thinking about letting the former masters live on certain conditions, but they wanted to talk with the newly freed first to understand the situation better. As they spoke with the former slaves, they noticed that many of them were former bed slaves, trained in the way of the seven sighs and sixteen seats of pleasure. She noticed Jon’s face grow darker and darker, likely matching her own. But then they came across a bed slave who was barely older than a child. “How old are you?” Dany asked her. 

“Thirteen,” the girl looked scared. 

“It’s alright, you’re safe now,” Dany reassured her. Jon began whispering harshly in her ear, and she nodded in agreement. 

Jon then addressed everyone assembled with a booming voice. “Freed men and women of Yunkai, lend me your ears. Just as the masters have decided your fate for far too long, you will now decide theirs. If your former master has abused you, tell us, and he will die. But if your former master never harmed you, tell us, and he will live, though he’ll still have to compensate you. You have no reason to lie as your answers with not affect your compensation. Whether you say your master abused you or never harmed you, you will still receive the same amount of money from your former master. Again, there is no reason for you to lie, and if we find out you are lying, you will be punished. Understood?” The former slaves nodded. 

“What if they do lie? We’d have no way of knowing without investigating, and we don’t have the time and resources to do that for every former slave,” Sam lamented. 

“Aye, there is a chance that a few will lie. But what if we’re so worried about the small chance of fraud that we do nothing to the masters and they retake the city after we leave and re-enslave the newly freed? It’s for the greater good. It will remove the abusers and weaken the masters, thus ensuring peace after we depart,” Jon countered. Sam still looked skeptical, so Jon added, “And once the situation is more stable, we can start to give the former masters more protections. But things are too precarious now for us to do that.”

“But things won’t stabilize until long after we’ve left, and there are no guarantees that those we leave in power will ever give the former masters any protections,” Sam rebutted. Jon sighed. 

“We’re doing what we can, Sam,” Dany interjected. “It’s not perfect, it’s not ideal, but it’s a step in the right direction.”

“Aye, you’re probably right. I’m sorry for pestering you. I just worry,” Sam smiled sadly. 

At the end of the day, three out of every five masters were accused of abuse by their former slaves and put to death. _That sounds about right_. 

Like in Astapor, they assembled a council to rule Yunkai once they left. At Jon’s insistence, they left Daario Naharis and the Stormcrows to keep the peace. The Second Sons also stayed behind in Yunkai. When their new commander heard that Jon and Dany were heading to Meereen, he gave some advice: _Well, just know, an old sellsword I once knew, Ben Plumm, used to say that you can always take the city by going through the sewers_. Dany couldn’t help but chuckle at the random knowledge gleaned from a life as a sellsword. And just as in Astapor, they also left two thousand Unsullied, as well as a few thousand Westerosi soldiers and a few lordlings who would help the transition in the short term and vet the chosen council. 

While they were sailing to Meereen, she, Jon, Sam, Missandei, and Grey Worm were chatting below deck. “We’ve accomplished so much in so little time,” Dany said. “Pentos, Volantis, Astapor, and now Yunkai . . . all we have left are Meereen and Qarth, I’m proud of what we’ve managed to achieve. We may have made a few mistakes, but if we look back, we’re lost.”

“What?” Jon looked skeptical. “If we look back, we’re lost? That doesn’t make sense. You should look back so you can learn from your mistakes.”

“But you can’t dwell on your mistakes or you’ll be trapped in a past you can’t change. It’s important to focus on the future, which you actually can change,” Dany elaborated.

“I agree,” Missandei smiled.

“But if you don’t learn from history, you’re doomed to repeat it. So, it’s important to reflect on the past,” Sam countered. 

They all looked to Grey Worm who would be the tie-breaking vote. He hesitated, but then Missandei gave him a look that Jon recognized quite well. “I agree. If this one looks back, he is lost.”

“I cry foul!” Jon complained. “Did you see the look Missandei shot him? This is a clear case of undue influence that tainted the vote.”

“How come I couldn’t undue influence you? You’d think after decades together you might actually want to agree with your wife and the mother of your children!” Dany pouted petulantly. 

“It’s for your own good. I have to keep you humble,” Jon grinned. 

“Well, you’ve done a rotten job of that, because I think I’m pretty great,” Dany beamed.

“Do you now?” Jon began tickling her and then picked her up as she wrapped her legs around his waist. “I’m afraid we’ll have to retire for the evening. The great, beautiful Queen needs a little humbling,” Jon japed, causing her to smirk.

“Didn’t you humble her last night?” Sam asked.

“And this morning?” Missandei judged. 

“Hmm, actually I believe I humbled him this morning,” Dany corrected. “But yes, last night he indeed humbled me. However, I’m afraid I need humbling on a regular basis or else my pride will grow out of control.”

Jon nodded in agreement, “It’s for the realm,” he explained to Sam and Missandei.

“For the realm!” Dany laughed. 

Their mood quickly changed when they reached Meereen and were greeted with crucified children. She was enraged. She got on Rhaegal and flew straight to the city, planning to burn every master alive. But before she would make it to the walls, something whizzed right by her and Rhaegal shrieked in pain. _Scorpions_. She turned around and flew back so she could dismount and check on Rhaegal’s wound. _My vengeance will have to wait_. 

Rhaegal had a hole in his wing, which worried her, though Sam insisted that dragons healed quickly. They next planned how they would take Meereen. They would hold off on using the dragons for now. There was no weakness in the walls, and the bronze heads above the gates would pour burning oil on their soldiers who tried to breach the walls. 

“The commander of the Second Sons mentioned entering the city through the sewers,” Dany remembered. 

“Aye, that might work,” Sam agreed. “Though I’m not sure anyone will be able to stomach the smell. And who knows what kind of rats and other vermin lurk there.” 

“I’ll go,” Jon declared, his tone indicating there would be no debate. 

Dany didn’t care about his tone, “Jon, don’t be ridiculous. I will not have my King wading through shit and piss.” 

“A King who’s not willing to get dirty for his people is no King,” Jon countered.

“You’re right, you’re not a King, you’re a stubborn fool,” Dany complained. “And don’t think you’re getting anywhere near my bed after.” She crossed her arms in defiance. 

Her threat struck a nerve, but he was too far gone to back down now. He sighed, resigned to his self-imposed celibacy. “So be it. Come on, Grey Worm,” Jon left the tent. 

“Argh!” she screamed, then turned to Missandei, who looked away and bit her lip. “It’s not funny,” Dany resolved, but then they both started laughing. _I hope for Alys’s sake Aemon doesn’t take after his father_. 

When the Unsullied and Westerosi armies had crushed the last of the resistance, Dany entered the city on the back of Rhaegal. The dead were heaped high all around her. Cheering slaves lifted bloody hands to her as she passed by and called her “Mother.” Jon had rounded up the former masters and stripped them of their jewels and fringed tokars. _They look weak, scared, and contemptible_.

“I want your leaders,” Dany commanded them. “Give them up, and the rest of you will be spared.” She took the leaders outside the city to the crucifixes. They began crying and wailing when they realized their fate. Dany wanted to watch each and every one suffer, just as she insisted on seeing each crucified child and remembering their faces. 

She approached the fourth master to die, and older man who, unlike the previous three, did not beg for his life, but accepted his fate with a quiet dignity. “Stop!” she turned to see Missandei running full speed towards her. “Please, Your Grace,” Missandei begged. “I know this man. He showed me kindness when I was still a slave in Astatpor. He treated the wounds on my back, and even offered to buy me from Kraznys and take me with him back to Meereen. I desperately wanted to go with him but was too afraid that Kraznys would refuse the offer and punish me even more for trying to leave. Please! Please!”

Dany sighed, “Missandei, I understand your sentiment, but this man is a slaver. He does not deserve mercy. He didn’t even offer to free you, merely to buy you for himself. You still would’ve been his slave,” she reasoned. 

“He had a reputation for treating his slaves well. Being his slave would’ve been a thousand times better than belonging to Kraznys. He offered me the chance at a better life, and I’ll never forget that,” Missandei was adamant. 

Dany sneered at the older master, “You’re a leader of the masters, who no doubt played a role in crucifying children.”

“I did no such thing,” he said with an even tone, as if he didn’t care whether they believed him or not. “The group of masters that killed the children are monsters, most of us think so, but we were too scared to stop them, lest we wind up being crucified ourselves. Though, it looks like I’m to be crucified anyways,” he smiled sadly at the irony. 

Dany was torn. She didn’t want to back down, and she wanted justice for the children, but she trusted Missandei’s judgment. 

Jon allowed her to save face, “You say that many of the leaders weren’t involved in the decision to kill the children?” Jon inquired. “Are all who were involved here, or are some still back in the city?”

“I don’t know everyone who was involved, but yes, many of the leaders here were likely not involved, and many who were involved are still back in the city,” the kind slaver answered. 

Jon turned to her, “If we kill these leaders, many who are truly guilty will escape justice. We need to learn the truth.” He walked over to the next slaver in line and hammered a nail into the man’s hand, who screamed. “Give me names,” he snarled. Sam vomited beside her. The slaver passed out in pain, but when he woke, began babbling away. After interrogating a few more masters, Jon quickly had dozens of names. “The rest of you will be spared for the time being,” he told the leaders. “But if we learn that you were involved in the slightest, you will share their fate.” The guilty were then rounded up and crucified, while she and Jon both looked on, satisfied with their vengeance. 

**JON POV**

Jon didn’t know why, but Meereen seemed knottier than Astapor and Yunkai. _Maybe it is due to its size and the relative number of factions?_ Regardless, an order began to emerge out of the chaos. The Meereenese who decided to embrace Jon and Dany’s rule and the end of slavery became known as the shavepates due to shaving their hair. There were also the freedmen and Unsullied. 

And then there were the former masters who still yearned for power. One of them, Hizdahr zo Loraq, asked them to reopen the fighting pits. Dany didn’t want to, but Jon understood the appeal of glory to even the lowest born. So, they agreed to talk to the fighters before making a decision, and after spending a few hours down in the fighting pits, they realized that many former gladiators truly desired to continue fighting. Just as they were about to leave, they saw a Westerosi-looking man sitting alone. “Who is that man?” Jon inquired to Hizdahr. 

“I don’t know his given name,” Hizdahr began, “but he came to the fighting pits long ago. People always called him ‘The Bear’ because of how hairy he is, and because I believe it was his family’s sigil back in Westeros. So, of course, he always fought against a bear because it was so amusing: a bear fighting a bear. Though, the older he got, the more we had to take precautions to make sure he wouldn’t die. He was very popular and we couldn’t afford to lose him,” Hizdahr grinned.

“It can’t be,” Jon mused. 

“What?” Dany asked. Jon walked over to the man.

“Ser Jorah Mormont?” Jon inquired.

“Aye,” Ser Jorah admitted, prompting Jon to exhale sharply. Ser Jorah turned and looked at Dany, which finally seemed to break his dour face. “Your beauty reminds me of the love of my life, Lynesse,” he told her. 

“Lynesse Hightower?” Dany asked, and Jorah nodded. 

“She abandoned me because I couldn’t afford to give her the life she wanted. But I’m just happy I got to behold such beauty one more time before I die,” Jorah smiled sadly. 

“Why would you die? You’re a free man,” Dany inquired. 

“Because he sold two poachers to a Tyroshi slaver back when we were kids. And then he fled Westeros to escape my Uncle’s justice,” Jon unsheathed Dark Sister. “But now he will finally face justice. I, King Jaehaerys of House Targaryen, third of my name, King of the Andals, Rhoynar, and First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, sentence you to die. Do you have any last words?”

Ser Jorah looked at Dany, “Turn away, my Queen, I beg you.”

“No,” she folded her arms across her chest.

A few days later, the attacks began. Freedmen, Unsullied, and shavepates were being killed during the night. The shavepates suspected a resistance group of noblemen were responsible, the Sons of the Harpy. Jon and Dany created a city watch called the Brazen Beasts to deter the killings and set a reward for the Sons of the Harpy. To fund the city watch, Jon and Dany imposed a tax on the noble Meereenese families and demanded two hostages from each family to stop the killings. 

But despite their efforts, the killings continued. So Jon decided to investigate himself during the night.

As he walked down a back alley, his sense of smell and hearing were enhanced, and he would smell and hear those who passed him before he saw them. Some didn’t notice him because he blended into the night, but those that did were leery of him. He walked around several houses, listening for a few minutes, before moving on to the next. However, eventually he came to the side of one house where the conversation coming from the window interested him. 

A male voice began, “When we reopen the pits, we will ask for a big ceremony, and we will make sure all of us are in attendance. We will insist, as a gesture of good will, that the King and Queen partake in traditional Meereenese delicacies, such as locusts. And not just any locusts,” the implication caused laughter to erupt from the room. “Quiet,” the male voice admonished. Jon continued listening to their plot and learned of a few names. 

Fifteen minutes later a hundred Unsullied arrived and slaughtered everyone in the house. But Jon was not finished, he was just beginning. He had all the masters woken up and dragged from their houses in the middle of the night. He explained to Dany, Sam, and Missandei what he overheard while inside Raven, then turned to address the sleep-deprived nobles.

“A group of former masters plotted to kill my wife!” Jon raged. “And I know there are more than the ones we killed. So you will tell me every single member of the Sons of the Harpy now or you will all die slow, painful deaths,” he threatened. No one said a word. “So be it. I have other ways to procure information,” he growled. Jon grabbed the first former master he saw, who looked absolutely petrified. Jon took out a knife, “In Westeros there is a family that has fought against my mother’s family for thousands of years. They have a reputation for being cruel and heartless. One custom of theirs in particular has helped them earn their reputation. You see,” Jon sank the tip of the knife into the man’s finger, causing the man to scream, “they like to remove the skin of their enemies from their bodies. In fact, a flayed man is on their banners. But you would know about flaying. In the Plaza of Punishment in Astapor, rebellious slaves were flayed to the point that they resembled zorses. Should I do that to you?” Jon continued cutting, prompting the man to beg for mercy. At the end, the man’s hand was red, and he had given Jon a dozen names. _Though none of the names matched the names I overheard the Sons of the Harpy give when I was inside Raven_. 

He looked to his wife, who nodded at him to continue. He moved to the next man, but before he could get to him, Sam ran in between them. “Stop, Jon. Please! There is no evidence that any of these men were involved in the Sons of the Harpy,” Sam had a desperate look on his face.

Jon scowled, “Sam, these men plotted to kill my wife, and all the rest of us. They’d kill you in an instant if they could. I will not sit idle while they scheme to murder us once we let our guard down, or scheme to enslave the freedmen the moment we leave.”

“Jon, there are other ways to get names. And the names you get might be completely made up just to stop the tor—” Sam hesitated use the word. 

Jon moved to within an inch of Sam’s face, “I gave each of them the opportunity to give me names, and they all refused, every last one. So I will have to get names the unpleasant way. But it was they who forced my hand. Now move,” Jon commanded.

“No,” Sam stuttered.

“What did you say?” Jon asked.

“Please, Jon, don’t do this.”

“Sam, I am your King. You obey your King, now move!” Jon yelled.

“The Law is King,” Sam whimpered. 

Jon hesitated, but then found his resolve. “I failed to protect my wife once, but I swore to her that I’d never fail again, and I’ll keep that vow even if it means I’ll have to spend eternity in the deepest of the seven hells. Now MOVE!”

“No,” Sam choked.

“Don’t make me hurt you!” Jon threw down his knife and raised Dark Sister above his head. Sam cried out, his eyes closed tight as he winced for the inevitable blow, while he trembled and wet himself. But he did not move.

After what felt like an eternity, Jon kicked a bucket of vinegar and stormed off. 

He had his face buried in his hands when he heard a knock at his chamber door in the Great Pyramid. His Queen entered, _no doubt completely disgusted with me, and I don’t blame her_. “You don’t have to say it, I know I’m a fool. Or worse, a monster,” Jon admitted. 

“You’re not a monster. You just got caught up in protecting me. Your desire to keep me safe overwhelmed your good judgment. It happens,” she smiled sadly. 

“It shouldn’t. I owe Sam an apology. Gods, he probably hates me, and I deserve it.”

“I think we both got caught up in vengeance,” Dany confessed. “But that’s why we have advisors.”

“Our whole purpose in coming here was to show them a better way, and I’ve become just as bad as the masters in some ways,” Jon lamented. 

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Sam said, standing next to Missandei. _When did they walk into the room?_

Jon got up, “Sam, I’m so sorry.” He hugged Sam tightly, “I’m so sorry. Thank you. Thank you.” He released Sam and wiped his eyes, “You’re the best advisor a king could hope for. You did exactly what you were supposed to do.”

“I’m glad you see it that way,” Sam smiled sadly. “And I would’ve gotten here sooner, but I had to change my pants,” he gave a sheepish smile. 

“I’m so sorry. My actions were reprehensible.” He hugged Sam again, “I lost myself. In fact, I’ve probably lost myself for a while now. But you helped me find myself again. No one else had the courage to stand up to me. I was speaking the truth when I told your father that you were no craven. Thank you, friend.” 

“Any time,” Sam responded. Jon looked back at Dany and Missandei, who were both wiping their eyes and smiling. 

**DANY POV**

Eventually, they routed out the vast majority of the Sons of the Harpy through more conventional means, including Hizdahr. And the few names they couldn’t find, likely because they fled the city, were given to the Faceless Men. When the attacks began, she had planned to kill the hostages one-by-one until the killings ceased. But then her and Missandei had a better idea. They decided to tutor the hostages, along with the children of former slaves, together in the same room. They thought that if the two groups spent time with one another as equals, maybe they’d start to see each other as such. Though some of the older hostages bristled at the idea of being educated along the children of former slaves, the younger ones didn’t seem to object, as long as they got their sweets at the end of every lesson. _This is the future of Meereen. The adult nobles might not ever accept the change, but their children might, especially if they were taught to_. 

They left almost 6,000 Unsullied to protect Meereen, commanded by Grey Worm. His new wife, Missandei, would be part of the ruling council, made up of freedmen, shavepates, and even a few nobles who kept the traditional hair. The companies of freedmen that Jon and Dany created would supplement the Unsullied, including the Mother’s Men, the Free Brothers, and the Stalwart Shields. 

As they were departing, Dany walked up to Missandei. “This isn’t goodbye, because I’m going to come see you every few months on Rhaegal,” she japed, causing Missandei to giggle. 

“Well, as much as I’d love seeing Rhaegal again, I also want to see those baby dragons!” Missandei exclaimed. Just a week ago, they had discovered a clutch of 5 eggs laid by Lyannaxes. 

“Oh yes, you will see the baby dragons, I promise you!” Dany grinned.

Missandei smiled widely, though her smile soon faded. “Thank you, for protecting me from the madman.”

“You’d been through enough,” Dany said. 

“But thank you. I don’t know any ruler who would do that for their subject,” Missandei looked like she wanted to say more, but thought better of it. The two then hugged each other tightly, and Dany joined Jon and Sam on the ship. 

They stopped by Yunkai to pick up the Westerosi soldiers and lordlings. The situation there was relatively stable, though no one could foresee what would happen over time. The news in Astapor, though, was not as welcome. The Westerosi explained how some of the freedmen tried to turn the children of the former masters into slaves, or worse, Unsullied. Fortunately, the Unsullied were able to protect the children of their former masters from their fellow former slaves. And the council harshly punished the former slaves who had conspired to harm the children. 

“I guess some slaves are just failed masters,” Jon complained. 

Qarth was their final destination. They weren’t actually going to demand the Qartheen end slavery. While they could likely conquer the city, they didn’t have the soldiers to rule it. Instead, they were going to Qarth because, some twenty years ago, the same voice that told Dany how to hatch her dragons also told her that there was something waiting for her there.

Qarth was impressive to say the least. From the port, to the triple walls, to the palace of Xaro Xhoan Daxos that made Illyrio’s manse in Pentos look tiny, the city was unlike any they’d ever seen. Xaro Xhoan Daxos was a gracious and flattering host, with his bald head and jewel-encrusted nose. However, she did not like the looks he gave Jon. So she was happy to leave the following morning to walk the city in search of the house from her vision twenty years earlier. 

She didn’t know where to go, but she knew she’d recognize the house if she saw it. And after several hours, she finally did, as the strange magic she felt all those years ago came rushing back to her. Her, Jon, Sam, and Raven knocked on the door, which was opened by an old woman. “It took you long enough,” the old woman gave a toothless smile. She took them to a room and opened an old chest with a strange-looking key. Inside were several black and green obsidian candles, tall and spiraled. 

“Glass candles,” Sam was shocked. “There are four at the Citadel, but they haven’t burned in over a hundred years. As part of their training, every maester tries to light one, and fails.” He then looked at her and Jon, “But if you two brought dragons into the world, defeated the Others, and freed the slaves of Essos, maybe you can get them to light as well.”

There was a note in the chest written in a strange handwriting, “To bind the new Targaryen Empire.”

Over the next few days, they met with the Pureborn, the Thirteen, the Tourmaline Brotherhood, and the Ancient Guild of Spicers. Just as they were about to depart, a warlock named Pyat Pree invited them to the House of the Undying. “You will see your mother,” he told Jon, “and your father,” he looked at Dany. _I don’t particularly want to see my father, but I’ll never deny Jon the opportunity to see his mother_. “And you both will see the future,” he smiled. So her, Jon, and Raven went, while Sam went back to the ship.

The House of the Undying was a grey stone ruin with a tall oval mouth as a door. Jon and Dany drank shade of the evening from slender crystal glasses. Pyat Pree told them to always take the first door on the right and always take the stairs up, but not to enter any room until they reach the Undying Ones’ audience chamber. Then, they were to do the same when leaving. 

Eventually, they came to a hallway with seemingly endless doors only to the left. In the first room, they saw Rhaegar as a young man laying next to a beautiful young woman with brown hair and grey eyes. _Lyanna. She looks different than she does in Jon’s miniature. I guess no painting can capture her spirit_. “His is the song of ice and fire,” her brother began. “He will fight the Others with dragons. I’ve seen it in my dreams. And two others will join him. The three heads of the dragon.”

“And what does Elia think about all of this?” Lyanna looked concerned. 

“She doesn’t believe in my dreams or the prophecies, but she is worried about securing Aegon’s reign. You see, my father has threatened to disinherit me numerous times in favor of Viserys. And if I’m disinherited –”

“Aegon will be as well,” Lyanna completed the sentence.

“So, Elia is willing for us to marry, as it will allow the North to ally with us, along with Dorne, so that we can depose my father. But let’s not talk about that now,” he kissed her neck.

After several minutes of kissing, Lyanna stopped. “Well, he’ll also be a song of ice and fire if his mother is a Stark and his father a Targaryen,” Lyanna wiggled her eyebrows. 

Rhaegar chuckled, “Aye. Though you don’t feel like ice now.” He moved his hand under the covers and kissed her. “You’re actually quite warm and wet.”

“Well, you’ve made me melt,” Lyanna gave a devilish grin and attacked him with her lips. 

Then they saw the same woman, in a bed covered with blood, holding a baby. “I love you, Jaehaerys. And I’m so sorry I won’t be there to pick you up when you fall, to give you advice when you fall in love, to see you become a father. But just know that I will always watch over you and protect you, I swear it.” She then closed her eyes and prayed, “I don’t care if he’s a promised prince. I just want him to know love. To be loved,” she wept. “Please!”

In another door, they saw a silver-haired king whose eyes were the same shade of violet as Dany’s. “I want Lord Chelsted burned for defying me!” he commanded. Then a smile crossed his face as frantic screams engulfed the room. “Rhaella, be ready for me tonight,” he told her mother, who looked scared. 

Then the vision shifted to show two kingsguard, Ser Jamie Lannister and Ser Jon Darry, standing guard outside Rhaella’s bedchamber. “Stop it. You’re hurting me! You’re hurting me!” Rhaella’s voice cried through the oaken door.

“We are sworn to protect her as well,” Ser Jamie told Ser Jon, disturbed at what he was hearing.

“We are,” Ser Jon admitted, “but not from him.”

Jon grabbed Dany’s hand and squeezed three times. She hesitated, but squeezed back. They continued on. Soon afterwards, the torches went out, and they heard someone approaching. Pyat Pree told them to follow him, but they ignored him. 

Eventually, they reached a gloomy chamber with a long stone table, above which a rotting human heart floated. The Undying Ones were seated at the table and began speaking in riddles. Jon and Dany then began to see more visions. In the first, Jon was seated beside a mirror, staring at his locket. “Mother, it’s been two months, and she still hasn’t answered my raven. She’s moved on. She resents me for not contacting her sooner. Maybe she’s in love with her betrothed? I can’t blame her, no one in their right mind would want to be with me. Look at me,” Jon glanced at his body, littered with scars, in the mirror. “I’m grotesque,” he punched the mirror, bloodying his knuckles, his face filled with anguish. “I don’t want her to see me like this. I want her to remember me as I was. It’s probably better that she’s moved on. I just hope my children will still want to spend time with me.”

“Jon, is everything alright in there?” Sam’s voice came from the other side of the door.

“Uh, yes, yes, Sam. Everything is fine. I accidentally broke the mirror, but I’ll be sure to get a new one. I know Castle Black is short on supplies as it is.”

In another vision, Dany was crying in bed, desperately clutching the conch shell Jon had given her when they were children. “I don’t want to marry him, Jon. I just want our children to be safe. Please, come to me. Maybe in a dream, tonight? If you do it this once, I’ll never ask again. I promise. Please, just once. Just hold me one more time.”

In a third vision, they saw a dark-haired boy and a younger silver-haired girl in the Godswood of the Red Keep. She thought it was them at first, but the boy had violet eyes, and the girl grey ones. “I like it here, no one really comes here, except for grandmother and grandfather,” the boy began. 

The girl smiled, “Yes, but it’s Muna and Kepa’s anniversary, so they probably won’t be leaving their chambers anytime soon.”

“They love spending time in their chambers. Mother always rolls her eyes whenever Father jokes about it,” the boy said. 

“Aegon, I want that,” the girl said. “I want what Muna and Kepa have, what Alys and Aemon have.”

“Aye, me too, Rhaella” the boy agreed. 

Just then, the vision faded away, as Raven leapt up on the table and tore the floating heart in pieces. Dany looked to Jon who was bound in chains, and a warlock was attempting to bind her as well. She quickly escaped and grabbed a large torch, running at the warlocks and burning them all. Jon’s chains quickly dissolved, and the three of them were able to escape. Once they were outside, they relaxed and began taking deep breaths. “Jon, I can’t believe—” Dany began but Jon jumped up beside her. She turned and saw that Pyat Pree was standing over her with a knife, but Jon had stabbed him through the heart with Dark Sister before the warlock could kill her. 

“You’ll never believe what happened,” they told Sam when they got back to the ship.

“Aye, you won’t either. The glass candles are burning again,” Sam exclaimed. 

**JON POV**

The journey back to Westeros was a long one, which was good, since it gave them time to talk and reflect. “Do you think it was worth it?” Dany asked him. “When I first told you I wanted to go to Essos to help free the slaves, you said it’d be like pushing a boulder up a hill. It would just roll back down. You thought we might be able to end slavery temporarily, but within a generation or two, we’d be back where we started.”

“Aye. But now I think it’s more like pushing a bunch of little rocks up a hill. Some will roll all the way back down. Some will roll, but only part way down the hill. And some will stay just where we left them,” Jon explained. “Overall, I think it was worth it. It was a good first step. Even if they go back to slavery, we gave a generation the taste of freedom. And once tasted, it’ll give the former slaves incentive to fight to keep it or get it back. It sets a precedent of what is possible. Though I am worried that we have burdened our children, grandchildren, and descendants with a perpetual war they never asked to join,” Jon brooded.

“Such is the burden of those to whom the gods have given great power,” Dany countered. “But I’m glad you got to see your mother. She really loved you,” Dany smiled at him. 

“Aye, that meant a lot to me,” he said. “And you were the answer to my mother’s prayer,” he smiled.

“Aye, I guess I was,” she beamed, but then her smile slowly faded. “Though I regret seeing the circumstances of my own birth. My mother never told me I was born of rape,” Dany’s eyes welled up with tears. 

“Your mother loved you the same as if you’d been born of love,” Jon replied. “No doubt you, Viserys, and Rhaegar made it all worth it for Grandmother.”

“But I can’t help to think that if she had been able to marry Ser Bonifer, she would’ve been happier,” Dany wiped the tears from her eyes and sniffled. 

“I’m not sure about that,” Jon smiled sadly. “And I know for a fact the world would be much worse off with you not in it, though I am slightly biased,” Jon grinned, which made her snort. 

“Gods, I’m so sorry Connington hid your raven. I had no idea you actually thought I didn’t want to be with you,” Dany looked at him, concerned. 

“Well, I wasn’t thinking rationally at the time. Sometimes when you don’t get an answer, your mind assumes the worst, even if it is not the most likely,” Jon explained. 

“And you know that I’m not bothered by your scars," Dany continued. "In fact, I think they’re quite admirable, as they show what you’ve survived, and how strong you are,” she ran her fingers over his bumpy chest. 

“Well, I’m sorry you felt like you had to marry Quentyn. And you know that if I was truly dead, I would visit you every night in your dreams, and even during the day whenever your thoughts wandered. In fact, I’m pretty sure you’d get sick of me,” Jon smirked. 

Dany laughed, “I’m not sure that is possible. But yes, things were really tough there for a while,” she laid her head down on his chest. 

“I thought it was us at first,” he broke the silence. 

“Aye, me too,” Dany said. “But the boy had violet eyes, and the girl grey. Maybe it’s from the future? The boy’s name was Aegon, which is what Alys wanted to name her child if it was a boy. And I’ve always wanted a girl named Rhaella,” Dany explained. She looked at him with a hunger in her eyes, “We need to make it happen.”

“Aye. Take off your clothes,” Jon commanded, as he took off his own. They lied on their sides, as Jon placed his thigh in between Dany’s legs, feeling her warmth. “I’ve decided something,” Jon interrupted their kissing. 

“Oh, what is that?” Dany said, distracted. 

“I don’t think it’s reasonable for me to have to wait until we get to our bedchambers to enjoy you.”

“Oh really?” Dany started slowly moving against his thigh. 

“Aye. You can’t have beautiful violet eyes, and not expect me to gaze into them. You can’t have silky silver hair, and not expect me to run my fingers through and tug,” which he did to emphasize his point. She bit her lip and continued rubbing herself on his leg. “You can’t have such pouty lips, and not expect me to kiss them,” he kissed her roughly. “It’s completely unreasonable.”

“Very . . . unreasonable,” Dany agreed, still distracted, as she began grinding faster on him. 

“And you can’t have perfectly-shaped breasts, with such responsive nipples, and not expect me to play with them at all times throughout the day. And you can’t have such a tight, warm, wet cunt and not expect me to explore it. And a plump arse, and not expect me to squeeze it. I’m done waiting to have you. From now on, I will take you whenever I desire, and people may watch, or they may leave, but no one is stopping me,” Jon vowed.

Dany gasped and squeezed her legs tight around Jon’s thigh. She then opened her eyes, “I want you to make yourself as hard as you’ve ever been, but don’t you dare come until you’re inside me.”

“I might need your help,” Jon smiled. 

Dany got on all fours and raised her arse in the air, inches from Jon’s face. He began stroking himself, becoming immediately erect. But he couldn’t help it, so he buried his face in her backside, causing her to moan. When he finished, he was painfully hard.

“Inside me, now,” she commanded. Once he was inside her, she wrapped her legs around him tight. 

“Dany, you’re my home. You’re my everything,” Jon began moving inside her. 

“Don’t stop, love. Don’t you dare stop,” Dany pleaded, as she wrapped her legs around him even tighter. 

**10 months later**

They returned to a stable Westeros. Despite an attempt (likely by Doran or Oberyn) soon after they left for Westeros to get a “regent” for Aemon and Alys (who were both the age of majority), the Great Council had done well. The only members who favored the regency proposal were Trystane Martell and Harrold Hardyng. Though, even Lord Hardyng backed down once his wife, Sansa, threatened to go back to Winterfell with their children. _The pack always sticks together_ , Arya had bragged, and even Sansa would not tolerate her husband undermining her “niece” and “nephew.” Arya was proud of her sister, _and it was good to see the two of them getting along_. But Bran and Asha were the members who most vigorously opposed the idea and made sure it was defeated. Interestingly, Trystane and Bran eventually came to get along well and worked together to write some laws to which Aemon and Alys agreed that modernized certain ports and established trade deals among the various Seven Kingdoms. Jon and Dany's return was bittersweet though, as they learned that Ser Davos has passed away only a few months before they returned to Westeros. He had served their family well, and had guided Aemon and Alys in their absence. They regretted not being there during his final days. 

But today was a special day. A vision was about to be fulfilled. “Aegon, come meet your Aunt Rhaella,” Jon said. 

Three-year-old Aegon scurried up and looked down at the little baby. “No ant, baby,” he looked at them like they were all idiots.

They all laughed. “He sounds just like you, Jon,” Dany grinned. “When I came back from Dragonstone when I was nine and met you for the first time in years, you refused to believe that I was really your aunt,” she hit him playfully on the chest.

Jon smiled at her, then turned to his grandson. “Aye, she is really your aunt. And you are her nephew. And a nephew’s job is to love and protect their aunt. Will you love and protect her, Aegon?”

Aegon bent down and kissed her forehead, “Luv and pwotek.”

Jon looked to his own aunt, who simply beamed at him, her eyes filled with tears. 

**10 years later**

Jon laid his head on Dany’s lap as she ran her fingers through his hair. They were sitting in their favorite place, though they had recently been forced to share it with Aegon and Rhaella. The situation in Essos had gone better than they expected in the long term, likely because, for better or worse, they killed so many of the masters. It also helped that their allies in Meereen, Volantis, Myr, and Braavos had glass candles to help keep Jon and Dany informed of the news in each city, allowing them to respond before any situation got out of control. However, the former masters still rebelled from time to time. Daeron had put down a rebellion in the Disputed Lands. He single-handedly destroyed the combined rebel forces of Lys and Tyrosh from the back of his dragon. Jon had never seen anyone fight with such ferocity, though Dany claimed that she had. Surprisingly, Daeron wanted to live in Essos. He hated the idea of living in the shadow of his older brother, Aemon, and desired to make his own name. So, he and his wife, Laena Velaryon, joined Missandei and Grey Worm in Meereen, and he took the title “The Protector of Essos.” Though his decision shouldn’t have surprised Jon. Daeron was always the most passionate of their children, and when he heard Jon and Dany tell what the masters had subjected their slaves to in the past, he was furious, even as a boy, and vowed that as long as he had a dragon, former slaves could rest easy at night. Daeron’s name was fitting, as he reminded Jon more and more of his namesake, the Young Dragon. It was hard with Daeron in Essos, and Lyarra in the North, as she had married Robb’s son, Cregan. But thankfully, with each of them now having dragons of their own, they were able to see each other far more often than they would otherwise. 

“Why have you never asked what made me fall in love with you?” Dany broke the silence. 

“It was for the realm, right?” Jon smirked. 

“Well, that was the official reason. And it was a lie,” Dany admitted. 

“I just thought we took to each other. I mean, I fell in love with you here in the Godswood when I was ten and you told me you’d always be my home,” Jon explained. 

“Well, I loved you even before that.”

“Really?” Jon was surprised. 

“Yes. You see, it’s the reason I asked you to show me the various places around the Red Keep in the first place. Though I think it’s funny that you waited to show me the Godswood until last. It’s almost like you were trying to determine if I was worthy,” she playfully accused. 

“Well, you were, and I had no doubt about that.”

Dany continued, “When I first got to King’s Landing, all of us were traveling from the Red Keep to the Sept of Baelor. Some boy slipped and fell hard in a puddle as we passed. Viserys called him an idiot, and Egg laughed. But you stopped, got down from your horse, and helped him up and asked if he was alright.”

“I don’t remember,” Jon admitted. 

“That’s because you did stuff like that all the time,” Dany explained. 

Jon thought about it for a few moments, “Aye, I was always the outcast in my family, so I’ve always liked to help fellow outcasts. It’s why I get along with Sam so well.”

“Well, even as a nine-year-old, I knew I wanted to be with someone who helped others. I wanted to be with the opposite of Viserys. So, I knew the moment you helped that boy, that I was going to marry you one day.” Her eyes began to fill with tears, “And I’m proud to say that, in all our years together, we’ve helped a lot of people who have fallen rise back up again.”

“Well, I’m glad you chose me,” Jon smiled. 

Dany shook her head, “There was never a choice. Only Jon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This been a lot of fun to write. I’m definitely a Jon guy, but hopefully I did Dany justice. Particularly, I've always admired the way she had so much love to give, especially to Drogo and Daario. For Dany, it wasn’t about power, but about loving and being loved. So, I always wanted to write a fic where she had someone worthy of her love from the very beginning.
> 
> The reason I wanted Jon and Dany embracing fire and blood in Slaver's Bay is because, aside from the smut, my other reason for writing this fic was to explore the tension between rule of law and righteous vengeance. Specifically, I wanted Jon and Dany to struggle when their desire to cede absolute power and make the Law "King" conflicted with their desire to protect their family and the powerless by any means necessary. Their struggle is all the more palpable since Jon and Dany have almost unchecked power to impose their righteous vengeance (in the form of dragons).
> 
> This struggle culminates with both Missandei and Sam pushing back against Dany and Jon, which I think are two of the more powerful moments in the fic. Specifically, Missandei pleading for the life of a former master is compelling since, as a former abused slave herself, you'd think she'd have no qualms with crucifying masters, yet she was adamant that this particular master be spared. And because of Missandei's experience, Dany truly respects her judgment, and so her pleading on the kind master's behalf causes Dany to start reevaluating whether she is truly dispensing "justice." 
> 
> Similarly, Sam defying Jon, despite the fact that he was absolutely scared to death to do so, really hit Jon hard and made Jon realize how he'd lost himself in his overwhelming desire to protect Dany. I think both of these moments show that, even with good rulers like Jon and Dany, there will be times when they lose themselves. Therefore, checks and balances are absolutely vital, whether in the form of advisors (Missandei and Sam), other branches of government (the Great Council), or the Law in general.
> 
> Only Jon Timeline (based on Jon’s age)
> 
> Age 10- Jon helps boy who fell in puddle; Jon shows Dany the Godswood for the first time where she promises to be his home  
> Age 11- Dany kisses Jon for the first time, says they should marry for realm; Jon finds Dany a conch shell  
> Age 15- Jon and Dany have sex for the first time; talk about masturbation; Jon learns the importance of foreplay; Jon goes to Winterfell for a few years  
> Age 16- Jon kills man in duel who insulted his mother  
> Age 17- Ghost!  
> Age 18- Jon returns to King's Landing; Rhaegar, Aegon, and Rhaenys die; Dany hatches dragons; Jon asks Dany to marry him; Jon’s coronation  
> Age 19- Jon and Dany marry, try domination on wedding night; Jon massages Dany and Rhaella  
> Age 20- Jon and Dany try drunken anal; Alysanne ("Alys") is born  
> Age 21- Jon and Dany try rimming  
> Age 22- Cersei and Littlefinger are executed; Aemon is born  
> Age 23- Jon doms Dany after Lord Hardyng flirts with her  
> Age 24- Dany doms Jon back from Dorne  
> Age 25- Lyarra is born  
> Age 28- Jon doms pregnant Dany; Daeron is born, Ghost and Nymeria have pups!  
> Age 30- Sick Jon tells Dany a naughty story  
> Age 32- Rebels defeated; Jon dies and is resurrected by Melisandre; Dany ends rebellion  
> Age 33- Jon visits Bloodraven  
> Age 34- Jon gets Viserys from Essos  
> Age 35- Jon convinces Wildlings to go south peacefully; Dany betrothed to Quentyn  
> Age 36- Hardhome  
> Age 37- Jon prepares the Watch; Dany to marry Quentyn, Jon returns; Dany waxes; Jon and Dany marry again in the Godswood  
> Age 38- Battle for the Dawn, Others defeated; Alys and Aemon marry; Jon learns the harp; mother-son, open-door lovin'; Dany doms Jon and punishes him for making mess; Dany meets Missandei; Mist and Night have pups!  
> Age 39- Jon and Dany go to Essos and treat with the Free Cities; Jon punishes Dany for touching herself; Dany raped; Euron killed; Drogo killed, Khalasar destroyed; Lovin' on the back of a dragon; Dany walks through the flames in Volantis; Aegon born  
> Ages 40-41- Free cities and Slaver’s Bay free their slaves; Dany plays with her favorite toy; we meet Grey Worm and Daario; Dany Qartheen dress sex; Jorah killed; Missandei and Grey Worm given roles in governing Slaver’s Bay  
> Age 41- House of Undying visions in Qarth; Rhaella conceived on boat  
> Age 42- Rhaella born, Aegon meets his aunt  
> Age 52- Dany tells Jon in the Godswood what made her first fall in love with him

**Author's Note:**

> And about Dany's rape in chapter five . . . I knew it would turn some folks off (which is completely understandable), but I just assumed people would see the warning and not read. So, I was surprised by the negative comments I received (in the original version of this fic that I orphaned) simply for including a plot point from the books. And the fact that I actually received more negative comments than positive ones has turned me off from writing Jonerys; the fandom is just a little too toxic for me.
> 
> In this fic, I tried to have symmetry in Jon and Dany’s story lines, including their BAMF-ness, sexual roleplaying, competence, and power. This symmetry also included each enduring a canon trauma under different circumstances (murder vs. rape) which then affected their canon triumph (fighting the Others vs. ending slavery in Essos). And it wasn't just for symmetry purposes; Dany's rape made both Jon and Dany far more willing to use fire and blood to both end slavery and keep their family safe, which was in tension with the due process/rule of law they've long advocated. And that tension was something I wanted to explore, particularly using Sam and Missandei to push back on Jon and Dany's excesses. 
> 
> Considering all the backlash I got for having Dany raped, it was strange to me that not a single person seemed to care about what I subjected Jon to (murder, body littered with grotesque scars, guilt from knowing Melisandre burned a boy alive to resurrect him, etc.). But, apparently a lot of people in this fandom feel that rape is a unique form of trauma that should only be included in fanfiction under limited circumstances (unlike murder and other forms of assault, which apparently are perfectly fine to write about ad nauseam). And I concede that, because I’m new to writing fanfiction, I’m relatively ignorant on the topic, and there’s a chance that if I were to study the issue more, I might reach a similar conclusion and thus avoid rape in my subsequent fics. 
> 
> However, even if my writing about rape was misguided or tone deaf, I still don’t think that entitles readers to curse me out or leave multiple comments about how stupid my fic is. It’s just not a good policy. When I receive far more negative comments than positive ones, especially as a new writer, I no longer have any incentive to post chapters from a cost-benefit perspective, since posting becomes a net negative experience for me. And while those who left negative comments are likely happy that I’m not going to write any more Jonerys, to the extent that fics like mine have SOME value that SOME people might enjoy, then AO3 suffers a net loss and becomes that much less diverse in its content. 
> 
> I write all of this to simply ask folks to adopt a policy of “don’t like, don’t read” in response to fics that feature “objectionable” content. Thank you. 


End file.
